Which sits in shreds;
some behind, some moving
and others…
simply still
I need the baking sun
to assemble me in a semi-circle
underneath the rainbow
So I can at least see the world
in different colours and textures
and not just rough black and plain white
The air outside is not in union
not in peace-wearing a morose face
it rests in uncertainty
with a lottery of choices.
Yet with no option but
to move with the wind of circumstance