Ineffective & frustrated
It cannot always be someone else's fault
Yet how I often I fancy myself to be blameless
Scents surround the stories
Soft words, softer when spoken
Book, half read, beside the bed
Letters on the side left unopened
Bones, intact
Breath approaches steady
Confidence attacked
Many times over
More often than not
The end came too soon
More often than not
The words could have been kinder
Pre school years
Post traumatic stress
Families gather
All along the vacation trail
I am told
That on a good day
You can see five counties
Albeit one of them is in Wales
Early evening mist, draped over the hills
A chill breeze drives over my shoulder
I may holler as much as I wish
Only the songbirds will hear
Sunlight slips into the grey western sky
Bluebells in waves down the bank
Old trunks reach up with new leaf
Rapeseed fields catch the eye
Email from son number one
- Stay in touch
