Looking in. we miss the outer world
The blossom hanging from the vicarage wall
An old man’s hat which by the breeze is whirled
The toddlers skipping in the Shopping Mall.
Now coffee shops are where we socialise
No more to labour over stove and sink.
And listening, hear what would not meet our eyes.
When for one small moment they both blinked.
And yet we long for time to be alone
To breathe more freely, play within our mind
For being far less solid than a stone
Impingements to our boundary we find
As we balance on this old seesaw
We know no thing is static. life is raw.
