July 2nd, Heptonstall
“The canal sunning slack ripples,
Rusts, useless.
Black chimneys, lopped stump-low for safety,
Sprout willow-herd.
Down Egyptian walls
The voices trickle
Into gleam-black stagnation.
Something that was fingers and
Slavery and religious, reflects sky.
Stone softens,Obsolete despair
Smiles this toothless and senile
Mauve-pink flower.”
Willow-herb by Ted Hughes
now i feel really cheerful