Scroll On

We unroll our scroll as our lives unfurl

White space marked with lines, a playful spiral,

Notes our early days, our growth from shape to letter

Fitting together, standing beside

Then better words whether short or longer

Till linked and joined by others, we trace

Our lives by a face, a hand, and

Move onwards, at times flowing, going gently,

Smooth from line to line, but Time to time

The syntax breaks, the silence aches,

The story takes a break, a twist, gaps resist

The flow, as rhythm stutters, tread is worn,

A thread is torn and we unravel, snag and knot,

Dredge the sludge and mutter on with what we’ve got,

Our lines, our minds, the shapes of things have been and still

To come, our flow undone, the prose slowly goes, the rhyme declines

till we hit a groove, a well worn track which leads us back

To steady safety, ready and all heady sense of loss and space

Is gone as we plod on towards the bottom of our page.

Until we end our story, become a footnote, stop our plot with a dot dot dot…

 

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