On my way to buy a morning paper, # 66

Fresh-damped dust and ancient pepper -
the smell of new rain following nearly a week of dry

In the mirror

The recently-arrived bracket of disgruntlement
on the left side of my mouth
no longer disappears completely
when I smile.

On my way to buy a morning paper #65

A flock of seagulls, by the sound of it;
only four in actuality.
(Wasn't there a group called that?)

Glorious blue morning

Magpie drilling indignation
at next-door's cat.

On my way to buy a morning paper #64

Blackness of high-looming clouds made evil by the not-yet-risen sun.

On my way to buy a morning paper #63 (Recycling day)

Milk cartons conducting covert operations
scurrying from hedge to hedge.

Just now

 Sky the snotty yellow-green that smoke from coal used sometimes to be.

On my way to buy a paper #62

Harsh echoing around the houses
of rag and bone man's archaic and distorted words
mimicking a muezzin's call to prayer.

Revelation

As green turns deep red
becomes scantier, and more orange
last winter's pennant plastic bag
reappears,
More tatty, multi-stranded than ever.

From my window

Still as death, and sky the colour of a shroud - how can one be inspired to write under such circumstances?