it
ends you know
there is just one more day of life to
follow on this road
one sun one moon one meal to gnaw to gulp
to wash and scrape
and moan about to all who cross my smallish sticky path
not so much a glider anymore I drag myself the sled pushed
forward packed with chattels of the prophylactic kind no more
of that tomorrow rest that finished product everyone is after
all day every day
will come
chattels of the prophylactic kind ----
ReplyDeletethat's a title!
(or a way of life)
could be a custodial sentence
some days, it seems that way eh. You do know when I pack my suitcase the night braces take up more space than the clothing!
DeleteI think you superbly nailed this Kerri – a real little beauty thank you (:
ReplyDeleteThanks Jeffree, I am coming up on a manuscript deadline and I felt it was done, but I am at that point where you tinker. xx
DeleteLove it, Kerri. Perfect.
ReplyDelete