I didn’t follow the prompt today. Instead I wrote about something that’s been on my mind recently.

Some days you’re disappointed.

When you shook his hand and he smiled

and you just didn’t see it. The lie.

It wasn’t in his eyes. Somehow

you just thought it would be okay

but then it wasn’t. Meanwhile, in

the hospital, Mum was still dying.

Meanwhile the cancer still ate at her

lungs and her spleen until she

didn’t have enough of anything.

And he smiled, as he told a lie.

This morning some crows, a murder

I suppose, mobbed a young buzzard

over the fields.  It’s fine though,

not personal, even when the bird

could no longer fly.  Protect

your own by pulling a stranger to the

ground.  It’s all feathers and fury anyway.