WELL BEING

I’m at the breakfast, dinner, lunch table

With the usual early morning stuff

Poetry scrambled egg and coffee.

The bench is bolted to the wall

For wheelchair access.

The trees outside are almost bare but

that’s enough of them, I must go in to go out.

The piles of books on my radiator

Add warmth, act as my comfort blanket

its snug and cozy here but

it lacks just one thing

Memory.

An active imagination won’t bring it back but

It gives me a sense of artistic meaning

And that’s half the battle.