I couldn't resist this. A Sunday morning coloured abstract in Market Harborough, speaking for itself. Of course I do have to say that it's the juxtaposition of shape and colour that appeals, and the pillar box adds so much. But what of the blue box next to it? Being occupied with getting a bottle of claret to go with my leg of pig and the prospect of a couple of pre-lunch stiffeners in a little favourite Leicestershire pub, I didn't study it closely. Perhaps it's a receptacle for a spare pair of trainers and Lycra cycling shorts that seem to be de rigeur these days amongst the younger generation of postmen. That's it really, except to say that in there amongst the apples and new potatoes there's a poster stuck to the door for an Ian Hunter gig. All the Young Tubers.
Sunday Poem 202
10 hours ago