A Refuge from Incompetence.

Distraught on the rugged, stony cliff,

she watched the surf spilling onto rocks.

The sussurating sea, a rolling reminder to 

her of Autumn winds and whirling leaves.


The mizzling mist came heavily, hugging,

and wrapping her with a welcome refuge

shushing the hustling agitation in her haven,

til eased, soothed, safe on her own island. 


Viruses and violation and vague politicians,

hours that hurtled her into an aching abyss

of undone work, deadlines, unwritten lines,

statutory isolation, tedium and tension.


For now, though, 



a sentinel, 


amidst the sweet sounds of

calling Choughs, 

children laughing and 

the steady murmur of the sea.

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margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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