In the breathy chill
of school mornings
after porridge (brown
sugared) and not going too
near your hot coffee,
After toothpaste foamed
away in spirlas,
Your rough hands
plaited ribbons through my
hair like a long goodbye
held safe by the welcome
of every afternoon bell
winding me home again.
I've been getting a bit behind on this, having one cold after another and parenting and working full time has taken a bit of a toll.
And to be honest, I'm really not feeling like writing anything at the moment. The other night I had a thought:
"I wonder if I'm brave enough not to write?"
The answer is most likely "probably not", but it's still interesting thought.
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