Rob Schackne #753 - The Voice

   The Voice

Sitting in the backyard drinking my coffee the smell of the farm all around the dark clouds rolling in looking at all the objects scattered in the garden beds on the brick path stuck up under the fences bits of wire wood planks with nails an empty fertiliser bag two twisted brackets an old drum a sink unit turned over a rusty mattock starpicket loose bricks watering cans plastic buckets broken pots deflated cardboard boxes a spade a trowel six different hoses different couplings rust is everything lying down the strewn objects call waiting for utility for promise to be granted for joy or love or prosperity or just a bit better luck this time a bit more use and achievement I go back inside and get the whisky bottle