As a Woodlouse

Retreat

As a woodlouse

Trundles it’s fluid way

Across the lit brick

Of the bright morning,

~

Carrying its slanting

Shadow beside itself,

Thoughts and feelings

Traverse, cloudlike.

~

Six days into

A week long retreat,

At last she settles,

Frantic activity abates.

~

Attic studio clean

And clear, with skylight

Rectangles brightening

Scrubbed pine boards.

~

Painting rags drying,

Strung along a makeshift

Washing line, shifting

In wafts of rising currents.

~

Renewed by respite,

Replete with untimetabled

Repasts , curry for breakfasts,

And too much strong coffee.

~

Tomorrow she’ll be

Returning to a rhythm

Of normal clocks

And starts and stops.

~

For now, she sits

With six B pencil

As the last day

Passes gently by

~

And swifts scream above.

~~~