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.
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