Afternoon

The cup is full to the brim
and threatens to spill tea
at the slightest movement.
The flowers have began to shed
their petals on the mantelshelf
and an out of season fly,
with its legs up,
lies behind a postcard.
Shall I remove all these
reminders of decay?
Dust away the thin suggestion
of sunny days gone hidden
under the fallen leaves
and put a blanket over you
to keep chilly draughts
from your sleep?

OH

........