THE DAY

I

 Gently, the foot falls

and then the sounds

of blind walking to

the bathroom. The result-

a stubbed toe-has

become a ritual. There's

no jumping up and down or

shouting about such injury,

just the sounds of peeing,

the flush of the loo, hands

being washed, the hobble 

back to bed. Within minutes,

there is only the sound of quiet

breathing and the return to sleep.

II

The kettle boils, two spoons of

coffee with soya milk, tea bag in 

the other-just a dash of cold

water-to start the day.

There's Facebook and Twitter,

some marmalade on toast-we 

won't mention the amount of butter,

or the whiskers licking it off with delight.

III

Done with the exchange of

friends and followers, the

shower is mentioned and 

is followed by a song,

another of our rituals.

IV

A walk on the beach, more often 

than not, is the case these days.

A place to talk out the issues,

 relax and enjoy the company,

before a dash to work, with

most of the coffee from the

kitchen in tow. Tweets and texts

pass break-times throughout

the day, while both strive individually

to find our own way.

V

Come ten o' clock, it's food

and favourite box sets, the

comfort of knowing and wanting

still with us yet.