The rest ...

in restlessness 

is hard to comprehend... this is the trails of tragedy ... time shifts .. these special times that is in my personal timeline .. recoiling in the fact ... where did he go ...?   The unsaid in embodiment... 

You can put me in the middle of a whistling tornado; as in my many disturbed dreams ... the end result all around is in ruin and tatters ... 

The time and energy needed to rebuild ...,

Then water comes in and I have had many a paddle within the home ... The start again diverted and again with life events we all get .... The deaths, the injuries that put you aside from what is needed here and at my late mum in laws home ... 

And finally the start again and yet aside to other life again for a month, just this April, to get things sorted elsewhere again ... 

Then time away to be ... by the bedside of a sister for an op... life now ... 

I cannot still be in a invisible prison as encumbered in that time ...

Yet all this time is the adjustment... Only just acknowledged ...

And in the recent flourish of striking out the past .... 

what was I thinking ... ?