The page can be a terrifying
hungry place
all that space waiting to
be filled
tears of your ancestors crawling
across time
where nothing and no one wins
no matter
how cunning the plan put together
all the money
on the earth not enough to bargain
one out
of the only certainty we can
rely on
as the words now wait for a bit
of coffee with sugar and cream
a dog barking in the distance
the sun
rising in the east like all the
mornings before