POEM.

A poem I wrote to the older woman who sat with me when my youngest was in hospital earlier this year.

It’s a special kind of love mum’s have
The older woman watching on said.
And I thought, I hope to be her one day,
When grey hairs crown my head.

MUSINGS.

I went from the midst of spring’s creative abundance and was thrown into the depths of winter. Summer and Autumn skipped in a flash as a small body, moving too fast on fawn legs, fell too hard.

POEM.

I took this photo twelve months ago. I can see the tiredness etched under my eyes and there’s a tug in my mind remembering how tired I felt too.

MUSINGS.

A year of transitions. Of breaking when I thought I was already as broken as I could be. Of cracking apart only to watch what grows up between the spaces this creates. Of tending to this fragility, this hope, this life.

MUSING.

We’re speeding towards 2023 and I don’t feel like I’ve fully processed 2022 yet.