Selby St, Hull, 8th June 2018
Before this there was a falling of sorts.
An awareness of things unravelling
But it was slow, most of the time,
And manageable.
Occasionally there’d be sudden plummets,
Times when the pace and stress of life
Would knock me out of the sky
But usually I’d lay low for a while,
Not let on, write, sleep,
Wait for it to pass,
And then rise again.
Glad to feel the wind against my skin
And be swooping once more with the flock.
This time there’s nothing manageable about it
No easy method to wait it out
No staying power in the sky
Nothing that seems to be holding me
Or energy to hold myself.