December 26

I - 2008

A hospital porter – black jumper, black trousers, dark look on his face, drags on a fag under a bare oak tree, tokes a few times, then flicks it away. Walks back in.

There is a bin a few metres away.

The cigarette lies smoking, shriveling then fades out.

II – 2009

I pass the hospital and remember the hospital porter smoking outside. I am appalled by the rush of time, by the loss of a whole year.

But then I think how much I have done and I relax. It is to be celebrated and acknowledged for the quiet warning it is.