I peek cautiously through the kitchen blinds.
It’s like a BBC 2 jungle documentary out there,
A green canopy growing wild and untamed.
Nature is reclaiming my garden,
and I feel like
this is a job for another day.
I tentatively open the cupboard door.
It’s like an explosion in a skip,
no antiques or heirlooms here.
This is Tutankhamen’s stuff for the tip
rubbish unfit for any afterlife.
Another job for another day.
I’m no Attenborough or Carter
Fearlessly investigating or excavating.
Instead I brave the TV channels
to visit far away lands
armed with a cup of tea
Sitting comfy in my armchair.