Old letters and other stuff under the bed

Some days
I like to try and defy time
attempt to throw a spanner in the works
or even tinker enough to turn it back,
even if only a little

Slip on that green jumper -
you know, the one she knitted me
with the crazy bobbles, and monkey-long sleeves
struggling valiantly in the cupboard against feasting moths
and out of it, on, hanging down to my knees.

Make hot cordial in a mug so big
I need two hands to hold it
and it covers my nose
as I drink.

Wear giant woolen socks that pick up the fluff
and sit back on the sofa
watching Sam be baffled at every new leap
or Fox telling Dana why she really should believe
or maybe just dancing round the living room
to Stevie and Michael and Lionel and Bob.