we can only start from here
no blaming the illness
myself
or all the others
just start here with the breath
where the succulent’s still
unplanted
and the sunshine soothes an aching temple
and turquoise sky fills my mind
bliss
a neighbour bangs on the window
for attention
the black cat slips off the fence
I open my eyes and wave
reset the clock
start again
focus on the breath
try to stay in the moment
while an ice-cream van
is playing the tune
about a pony
a feather
macaroni
Spangle McQueen is a happy grandma and hopeful poet living in Sheffield.
Foxglove Journal 