This Fickle Beast...

This fickle beast 

has taken so many bites from me
of late
that I'm barely surviving.
But part of survival, I guess
is knowing which parts & wounds to reveal 
and which to hide.

I have swallowed
so much foolish male pride
(these last few months)
that I now have a permanent stomach ache.

I have heard 
(and ought to learn from your wonderful, wise example)
that there is safety (survival?)

in numbers.

I soldier on,
batten down the hatches 
(whatever that really means) 
and tell myself:
"It's just a Winter thing!"

But that telltale box
of now-unloved
books, kitchen appliances & clothes
(slowly-but-surely growing
in the corner of my living room) reminds me...

This is more than a casual,
early-onset
of Spring cleaning.
Snow and the seasons
(it would appear)
are uneasy to predict with any certainty.

Unlike
my old (yet new) familiar, loyal friend;

change.

(For Sofie & Holly)

(c)Brent Harpur, 2019.