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A strange sort of day…

It’s been an odd day. I slept a bit long..as I have every morning since sleep came my way. I looked at all my notifications, emails, etc.

A friend sent me a text inviting me for a cup of tea. She is only round the corner. She’s been sorting stuff out in her flat, and yesterday I urged her to clear up the mess before it gets her mood low.

It was just as bad, and I find it hard to feel at peace sitting in a mess. Her feet are much worse than yesterday. More swollen and the skin darker. I’m trying to persuade her to raise her feet. She does it for 5 minutes and starts doing things again.

I left within an hour. I need to write her information to tell her doctor. She told me very spontaneously that I’m so lovely.

This afternoon I’ve been writing. But not really in a relaxed way. I published something to a wrong publication. I republished it to the correct one, and then my phone rang and when I went to delete the erroneously published one, somene had responded to it and deleted it from the correct publication.

Oh, the frustration!!!

So it rained in the night which is great for the garden, but it’s been slightly muggy which affects my breathing.

Other than that I’m ok. A lady named Ginny over the road knocked to say that a parcel was outside my front door. She is very kind.

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The Priest

A bloody white handkerchief,
waved as he carries the boy
through gunfire
. The boy dies,
with many others on that
bloody Sunday.

Ireland’s second bloody Sunday.
So many deaths, so much blood
in the fight for freedom. How
many bloody white handkerchieves?

First published at Scarlet Leaf Review (many years ago).