by Pamela

The mornings you feel fragile and

you stand at the open window,

the breeze is perfect all over your shoulders

chest and

face and

nothing at that moment could feel better.

It’s one of those –
the sun draws you out gently into a world
you feel you don’t know so well
your eyes become used to being open
but you wish like a child that you could close them just once more
– the delicate hands of the wind grasping your body
and the beauty of colour perfection are the shoes you will walk in
when you leave
your hole