June 5 2003
Eight-hundred fifty-three
the grocer in Montsegur battles eviction
I buy cherries and apricots
water and film
my thumb joint in pain as I move the pen
the air up here thin under wet grey cloud
woman on the garden terrace below
working the yard her rooster calls
and the church bell strikes midday
I eat apricots and cherries and listen
small birds never stop and the odd car
mobilising this slow steep life
my wife sleeps upstairs
the window open to the car park and gate
the woman and man of the house return
and the rain begins again