A bit of sun is giving me
some assistance vis-à-vis
a line of darks I’ve just hung out.
The cable layers have to shout
to hear themselves above the din
of cables being fitted in.

At the Apple Mac my wife
Thinks they have a dreadful life
– commercial greed to her’s abhorrent.
Myself, I fear they’ll cut the current
accidentally thereby wiping
hours of work. Not that griping
is our style. But, already,
autumn chills invade the study.
Showing now an anxious frown
for her jumper she comes down,
puts her hand to mine to feel
that her loss of heat is real.

Cars and buses by us glancing,
driven past diversion-fencing
round the workmen opposite,
do tend to distract a bit.
Soon, though, from the street will come
all the digging’s happy thrum,
pushing out the traffic noises.
Among life’s many, many joys is –
literally, it sometimes seems –
a sense of underlying themes.