On  Monday, I find a squirrel curling around in the tree,

 chomping on an acorn on a winter evening.

On Tuesday, I walk to Fullarton woods and watch the little children 

play on the swing on a winter  morning collecting brambles

 and eating them with their purple lips.

On Wednesday, I saw Maya and Lilly with their big fluffy blue jackets

 with steam coming from their breath on a freezing winter morning 

with their hands in the pocket to block out the coldness on the tip of their fingers.

On Thursday, I touch the quartz I found under the sand in barrasie beach as its jaggy points stab into the hand and it changes colour to the cold air next to the beach.

On Friday, I taste the night stars glowing under my tongue tingling as I speak even a shooting star making everyone’s dream come true when I breath.

On Saturday, I hear someone sneeze as it echos over and over until it stops and Troon beach

On Sunday, I dream a forest, a fleet of birds, icicles on your chin and a chair full of charms.