Timescale

Bed rest.
Doctors orders.

I’m 46.

I’m on a timescale.
I’ve got stuff to do.

I get up and walk to the kitchen.
Come back.
30 minutes to recover.

Fuck’s sake.

I’m listening to Otis Gibbs.
Stories of Townes and Guy.

Window open.
It was sunny 30 minutes ago.
Now it’s raining.

The ache in my chest
reminds me of something.
That slipped my mind.

The rain cleared as I closed my eyes
and let the music play.

(c) Paul Andrew Sneddon