He Sat at His Table
He sat at his table and stared at his coffee, it was still warm and he’d drink it as soon as he felt he’d be able to lift up his arm,
What does July look like
What does July look like?
It looks like vigilance, as the smallest indication of symptoms spawns a localised lockdown
It looks like local trips and long weekends to camp-outs and self-catered
Noises Off
Noises Off
Staring at an empty page
Is never quite enough, though
It helps control the inner rage
That comes, in stages:
First feeling a little rough, though
Maintaining semblance of control,
A
Ancient Currents
Ancient Currents
Ancient currents draw lines in the flow
Unseen to any but those who can know
How time travels forth, following its own course
Liquid space moves in place, a supporting force
Neil Peart RIP
Neil Peart. A drummer and a lyricist of course, an exceptional talent on stage and in the studio, an inspiration to so many through the many-layered wisdoms woven into his words. But