Claustrophobia cure

The perpetual production of dust, grit, 

and little lumps of plaster, 

the sudden power cuts and cold draughts

from the ever-open back door,

the rucked-up dust sheets and the obstructing ladders,

became suddenly intolerable.
I made an abrupt decision to leave
and headed for the wide high spaces of Greenwich Park.

It is a good deal quieter here in winter

and if you avoid the area around the Observatory,

you can have the place pretty much to yourself.

The rooks watched me from afar,

dogs looked for their owners,

a tourist-fattened squirrel tried to mug me,
but apart from that

all was tranquil.

Cured.