An Agendaless Age

Often I drift back to my days of youth to where life did begin; a rural treat, those sharp brisk mornings a moorland uncouth a naïve nakedness a one-way street, simple things like the sun rise snow and sleet. No timetables no worries to go wrong tuneful mum dusting the blues in a song, where fences were constructed to lean on over which chat neighbours when ties were strong, A relief thinking of those days long gone. 2021 Entered Mark Toney's 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile contest 15 30/9/2022