The Hallway
Heavy-thought swamp and flesh bog. Silence crawling down the hallway. How long before damp washing starts to smell on the carpet. Breathing in dull light under the doona.
Tick time tick. Time again.
What turns suffering toward relief? Do I leave? Does it?
Sunshine on my back. Seeing colour. Eventually most things find the shore.
A step. Stumble maybe.Tiny. Moved by the momentum of being alive.
Pencil on paper. A morning, A week, A month.
Graphite wonderlands. Surprising joy. I remember the desperation that fed them.
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