The chain saw

The chain saw started.
Stopped.
At the wall
the man held out two hands
of ripe cherries
and some that would be ripe
in a day or two.
The children took turns
picking them,
eating.
The man turned
and put the rest into my left hand.
The chain saw started.


The eleven days since I was last on Blip have been a tornado of heavy work. My last blip feels months ago. It is certainly hundreds of kilos up 36 stairs ago. I am now installed in a friend's attic for as long as the building work takes.

It started today with the builders clearing access: breaking down a fence between my garden and the car park behind, laying boards over the poppies, cutting down my apple tree, whose early fruit will be ripe in a fortnight, and telling me that they were sorry but the cherry roots were so extensive that the tree could not be saved.

I'm sure they did more, but after the children had climbed over the wall to help me pick up unripe apples I retreated to my attic to dry 20kg of them. This was their tree. I find this evening that my pictures of the cherry tree are only on my retinas.



I will fill the gaps as I can.