As always on a Saturday, we buy newspapers to read, in greater depth, of the events reported by online news sources.
Daily, reports from the world beyond this little island grow more and more depressing, yet in this tranquil place, chicanery and conflict seem foreign in every sense.
FERMAIN
Today, at noon, newspapers read,
we step outside. A world of grass,
of trees and sky, seems free from dread
or jeopardy. How it contrasts
with the grim newsprint world of grime,
skullduggery and petty crime.
We walk, with dogs, down to the bay,
through conifers, on well-worn tracks,
watch small boats carve their zig-zag way.
None of that other world impacts,
no angst, no overspill of war,
here by Fermain, where tide meets shore.
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