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Rebecca Ritson

I HAVE BEEN EATING…

WORDS:

This wistful Duffy poem addresses our addictive obsessive relationship with being ‘mobile’…and what happens when our mobility is shot down or ignored. Many of my words have been fewer than 170 characters in the last few weeks so it seemed apt:

Text

I tend the mobile now

like an injured bird.

We text, text, text

our significant words.

I re-readyour first,

your second, your third,

look for your small xx,

feeling absurd.

The codes we send

arrive with a broken chord.

I try to picture your hands,

their image is blurred.

Nothing my thumbs press

will ever be heard.

Carol Ann Duffy

FOOD:

Unable to quit last week’s scone fetish, I relapsed by baking wholemeal flour scones last night. Convinced they are healthier, I ate three. Gym session today has left room for more…so before they are (s)gone here’s a picture:

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THE NIGHT ABOVE THE DINGLE STARRY

SEDUCTIVE SALES

I have been seduced. A warm, earthy breeze billows and calms, billows and calms. Cicada’s chirrups cease and thus, an arch moon rises. Clouds career across the velvetine sky, alternately shadowing the stars and revealing them. In this magic half -ight twinkling, the grapes are picked.

It’s an averagely priced Sauvignon on offer at Saino’s – but they got me. The grapes have been harvested in the cool of the night. So I sup a rural idyll, not the sponsors of the recently departed Friends.

Any viniculturists…does night-time picking really make a difference?

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