We'll see you in April

When I answer my phone  I have nothing to say

and neither do they

but it feels good to have my phone to my ear,

like when I had a globe shaped pencil sharpener

and I’d think I am in that globe

and that globe is in my pencil case.

The field across the road from my flat is cut

every Tuesday morning and we all think it’s Tuesday

when we hear the buzz of the ride-on mower.

One day the field won’t be there it will be houses

or roads, but he will stand there

a square of turf in his hands.

It would be odd to make tally charts of how long it’s been

since you last saw the people close to you

and this doesn’t seem a sensible time to start.

I saw a therapist on TV suggesting you write letters

to yourself in the future to be opened on significant birthdays

but I don’t have any envelopes and can anyone remember

the last time they did something useful with a pen?