memory slips through
the fingers of the
hand we are left
grasping grains
where once
we gripped
dunes of
sand
.
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- Kidcobbler
- Spent nine months dreaming on my back. Opened up new horizons, if only horizontal. Woke up disabled, with a Blue Badge and bed hair. Walk with a limp and a stick. Cue the double entendré and the stick. Saving money on shoes. Spending it on thoughts. Overdrawn at the creative bank. Loan facility disabled. The irony! Stronger through weakness. Weaker through slogans. New journeys to be taken. Pop along. I'm off my back. I'm back.
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