On a bright and cold Sunday morning
I set out on my all-important quest,
the roads and pavements are empty
at this early hour,
the shops all have their eye-lid shutters
pulled down tight.
My breath hangs on the air as I walk.
I wrap my coat tighter around me
and quicken my pace.
The blue morning sky over-head
hints at a warm afternoon,
an image of cold beer and
garden furniture
comes to my hopeful mind.
I walk on to the only open shop,
jangling the change in my hand,
lured to the glow of the welcoming light.
The glass milk bottle is cold in my grip
as I return home to the boiling kettle.