slow life

every five of seven
it’s not ill
the pattern
the pattern of go

not the empty footpath
through seedy grass
a single meadow tree
dry summer

this time
can i get
to rabbit holes
dry roots exposed
treading inlets
of path
of footstep wide at most
to the edge
the dry green–yellow grass

a regular route
so familiar
that when i’ve nowt to churn
i create
the minor the minor the minor of tests
just to be
to mark the be

seven strides
a record
in time
a record
against myself
two days
a record

but not that
not at all
i’m in no meadow
no countryside

the five of seven walk
is jangle
from metro churn to metro
out the train
in the corridor
up the escalator
up the steps
on the platform
the other train

and today
a very minor pride
i’s the first
out the train
in the corridor
up the escalator
up the

no not the first
up the steps
an overtook

i have that to achieve
another day
when i’m awake
with nowt to churn
with energy
another journey
waste