a houseplant is starting to grow a new leaf,
so i know an old leaf is about to die.
little triangle corners from packets torn open,
all over my kitchen counter.
bookmarks in books
i haven't read in ages.
tiny scars on my hands
from playing the ukulele.
alarms i had set for things,
that don't make sense anymore.
the yellowing old paper
of my birth certificate.
amazon wish-list
of things i don't really need.
the artist and the writer
who got married,
not
for the idea of romance
but
for all the right reasons.
the birthdays
i am forever forgetting.
a friend's coffee mug
from Archies,
that reminds me of a
childhood memory
i thought i had lost.
the smell of inspiration
is of bonfire
and bakeries.
watching Ps I Love You
only to cry.
walking;
stopping at the teashop
on the way home.
struggling to be honest.
writing a list
of little thoughts,
memories and details
from a life.