Leaning into warm window pain,

less is more she thought

do less, with less

Leaning into soft, firm flesh of middle age arm – she is supported

Mothers arm, Grandmas arm, her own arm, rocking rolling support

( in the distance The Seekers are singing)

He sits by the window – supporting her with his gaze -they know the game

It is a foot.

A foot pressing warm honey floor boards, rocking her gently, limbs dangling.

The pleasure of weightless hang

“I wish I had a river I could skate away on…………………..”(JM)

Leaning into language she weaves her story into the stories of others

Do less,

Who’s voice is that now?

I wish I had a river I could lay down and wash away in……………………

Chardonnay at midday

and far away in snowfall Grandma is fading

Leaning into lostness, she’s no good at transitions

She could be here for days- leaning into window pain

But do not worry, something will change and force the shift.

The others will be home soon, the clock is ticking and the train has left the station.