Modus Vivendi

by grimbeau



The day turns


fifteen minutes

will he or will she not come?

I have  unlocked the door,

fetched out the crap,

brought in the milk.

It is very windy and

the sky threatens rain.

Things that deter unnecessary travel.

Four minutes to eleven.

Looks like a no show.

Make alternative arrangements.

Change tack.

Map out a new course.

A new modus vivendi.

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