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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 7, Number 1, March 2013

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Geoffrey Winch
Felpham, West Sussex, UK


Thinking As Always

As I turn down Trent Road I'm thinking, as always, that nothing changes except for the weather. And today, with all these footprints now frozen in yesterday's snow, I'm watching my every step, not daring to look up. But that matters not for I know every house; every garden; every link of chain-link fence; every decently-cultivated hedge; every scrappy blackthorn harbouring the same old sweet wrappers, emptied bottles and ancient newspapers with their headlines weathered blank. The same green paint peels off the same sad gates.

By the time I reach our own gate the light has dwindled to duskā€”he'll have guessed why I'm a little late. In the snow on our path are just my morning footprints and the postie's to the door and back. The same old door: same green paint chipped and cracked. I let myself into the gloomy hall; hang up my hat and coat; gather up the post. In the kitchen, as always, he's just sitting, waiting for me to boil the kettle and brew the tea.

music on the radio
never that tune
forever in my head

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