landlocked

Grey snowy day. More writing, more coffee.
Not really enough of either, Motorbike rides on icy roads.
Fun but scary... Need to build the smaller bikes again. For the winter at least.


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Bright eyes still voices,
These choiceless innocents seek
and seldom hide,
From progress,
the brave mask is no longer an act,
The strength for focus flows from this tide,
like so many forgotten baskets,
trusting the hands that guide,
and the voices from inside, that say

THIS IS RIGHT.

And we go on.

Self secure minds,
with small hands and big dreams,
clawing at the sea for one more chance,
to set things right,
and for one more day,

...to not be afraid in the night.