Once in times gone by

when the working week was done

happy Friday club

a small piece of fluff

shines golden in the sunlight

dancing on a thread

In the aftermath

a riot of birds debate

rebuilding their nests

The first day of spring

thrush sings the melody to

riotous chorus

when connection breaks

stumbling around in the dark

searching for a friend

as storms chase the moon,

whipping trees relentlessly

a small baby sleeps

Leaping on my bed

the dog stretches and yawns and

smiles with toothy grin

Dark webs cluster round

and paths are scantily lit

virtual journey

Hanging by a thread

traversing from web to web

a silken route map

Blazing red and gold

the morning sky promises

new frustrations