A patch in time, a poem written by Di Turton

SOMETHING is tickling on my nose 
caressing down my cheek 
I take a wobbly swipe,  
it comes back
struggling  from the abyss of sleep.
I swat again at that cold wet fly
and roll over, 
my swag grabs and squeaks
I push up
and stagger to the flap
bare feet sense a cold wet floor.
Zipper stuck 
outside is a mess
nestling in the dead coals
kettle on its side
the tripod tipsy drunk 
one leg has sunk
squishing into the ooze.
A mug full of yellow booze
beer cans standing up alert
leaves grey and damp
the trees are chuckling
the tent is buckling
ready to fall in.
I look at the other tents
standing in the rain
no one else has stirred
they are snug and dry
and asleep content. 
I should have patched that hole
before I packed my tent.

Just an ordinary day, a short story by Jenny Sanders

IT was an or