Half way there,
though the ‘weeky’ week days,
that is.
Two down, three across.
It’s also the day
that our bin men
(or whatever their titles are)
call.
I have to go out for bananas,
four, or maybe more;
ripe, or not so ripe;
and I have books to deliver
slash post.
Somebody, somewhere,
is awaiting words through their letterbox,
could it be you?
Graeme Sandford 