The end, when it came,
Wasn’t much of a surprise —
Months of uncertainty
Closing years of enterprise
A bit of time off —
That would do the trick,
Space enough to figure out
What it is that makes me tick
Lists of lists were created,
So many things to do!
Who was I without structure?
I hadn’t any clue
It’s taken months to realise
The answer isn’t mathematical —
To work out who I am now
Requires a sabbatical
This odd pocket of time,
To-do lists on the shelf:
✅ Buy milk
⬜ Become myself
This was written to a prompt at a local writing group.
Photo: Yarn bombing “You Can Do Hard Things”, Lane Cove, NSW
Leave a comment