Yellow door and a tailless black cat
we enter the day
striding up the slight incline
towards the car.
A purposeful departure towards coffee.
There are still puddles after the nights rain,
all else has been blown dry.
Autumn sun shines bright and rises late,
roses are still blooming at the café garden as we park.
No one is sitting outside.
We are on a mission
to pick up stone.
(notice the journey is not of one)
A highway destination
I navigate from the passengers seat,
turning my head to examine the pattern of balconies in the clouds,
reading the bill boards as they flash by.
An undulating fleet or army or troop all moving as one,
the Roman army on wheels peacefully invading Jerusalem
or the Spanish armada crossing the channel.
A cinematic view of the expressway.
On the return
the vehicle is heavy with purchase
five unfinished sculptures in the back
carried in strong arms and laid on the floor in the gallery
waiting for hands to shape them into life.
