31

I have given something up, or rather had it taken from me

I haven't found a replacement and know not what I am looking for

My own gentleness is fading amongst all the gentleness that surrounds me

Belligerent and bombastic are two words to describe my current way of going on

It's not what anyone wants, not that I know what anyone wants

Other than I have the idea of a straight line, a clear sky

A dream of a quieter place with time for deeper reflection

Somewhere to be myself, to find something there to be true

available on kindle

30

Pitch black

Out of the windows

Turning slow to light

Tree branches wave

Wild in the wind

I felt excluded

Set out to be set alone

Unable to soften

Unable to reach you

Intolerably awkward

Disingenuous

How to salvage compassion

Or best to pass on the baton

All of this before

The rains came

And the music played

All of this before

The tea and the toast

And a warm bath

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29

What then

With a new beginning

What then

With no end in sight

What then

With no purpose given 

What then

For fight or flight

Pages and pages

Books of blank paper

Thoughts and thoughts

Finding hopes of continuity

Ages and ages

Searching is a right caper

Noughts and noughts

Climbing ropes for security

What then

With a new halfway

What then

It's moving on, right

What then

If still squandering

What then

Of that second sight

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28

Some people are steady, as those beautiful waves, that lap gently to and fro, on the vast expanse of golden sands

There are also those, less steady, who like their music played loud, and thrive on explosions in the sky

Then there are the lucky ones, those free spirited souls who step easily from one path to the other; one day rich with laughter playing hopscotch or marbles, one day reflecting quietly reading their latest book; or else they are to be found, drunk as lords, with friends in the pub, or asleep on the grass verge

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26 & 27

There is a church

With a small spire

It shows a precision

Which its diminutive

Clock face signs off

—————————

One hundred Monday mornings

One hundred photographs along the way

Glimpses of the mood

Captured in that wellspring of emotion

Notes made on the road

More of the Christopher & less of the Kerouac

available on kindle