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St. John’s in the Vale.

perfect little spheres of water on grass
delight my eyes & barefoot skin
as I blink myself awake & stretch.
The little blue camping stove
greets me with a cheery “pop”
as it does every morning
and with the same match I light
my first ciggie of the day
& inhale a wisp of undiluted heaven
- and one of hair singed on the back of my hand.
a couple of cups wait there
as bubbles slowly form and burst.
It’s going to be a scorcher –
blue sky,
no clouds, no breeze, no faces
to muddy my moment at 06.46,
only a thin vertical column
of blue from the cottage beyond
making it’s way skyward
unimpeded
 - a sign that I’m not the first
and a premonition of smoky bacon
sizzling somewhere,
anticipated here.
Someone’s stirring inside
and a teabag’s stirring out here.
Another wisp of heaven drawn.
Good morning,
morning.