It's February

10. Flange

As if there is an edge
the poem appears
jutting from another
blog, another era.

Something to cling to
like a window ledge
on the tenth floor.
Like a forgotten door.

11. Flashiest

It's not enough to label it flashy.
Of extreme brilliance it lights up night
a ground-level comet shining with painted flames.
Its very speed announces:
"driver wishing to make a mark - aren't you
impressed?" I stick to the speed limit
overtaken but not with admiration.


12. Fleece

He stands, dog-tired -
a dog with a tumour.
Outliving vet's prediction
he lingers near us
stretches out on carpet
square or tile to rest.
The fleece awaits
his television hours, prime
position on the sofa,
prime time for an old dog.

13. Flitted

It's fitting that boughs
made for sitting
also encourage flitting

They're fleeting, these
rapid-fire meetings
and twittery greetings.

All relative: to a gnat
birds are slow, and fat.
Not so to a wombat.