Feeling not-so-sparkly and
with depression lapping bleakly at the edges of my mind,
I call on the guys( with gingerbread-men) because
They'd pranged the van...
He's feeling blue-black too
Tired, frustrated and ranting
about this
and that.
(The milk is sour -
He makes me black tea and we shut the door
on the colleague drilling shelves
in my brain)
I sympathise but find
we are arguing
about this
and that
(I swear he argues a full
circle) We are not really cross
with each other -
just the way of things
And we part with a hug,
hilarity,
a glance of blue-white sky,
and both feeling
unaccountably
cheered
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