Yet again I find myself in transit
from cloud nine and fluffy bunnies
pushed out of a plane, I cannot feel
a shute on my back but I hope it is
there, with string to pull, if needed.
I made a promise to myself, me and I
to pace myself, work less and live life
healtier day by day.
Why then at the end of the working week
did I not remember a simple four digit PIN
mine used literally every day
to pay for a takeaway. Embarrassing.
There was am offering of mead and
beer from tap, a festival of drinking,
with summer here at last. I had to
decline amid fears of falling off
falling off the wagon
to reach the final stop
in transit yet again
free falling lonely
spinning slowly
a cat’s landing
I pray for
