What gets lost along the way?
Keys, and books, and hopes, and friends –
but also the selves we thought would last
until we reach our journey’s end.
What gets found along the way?
Wisdom’s stoic overview?
Most stumble onwards, trusting in
time-tested tricks to help them through.
My ploy's to rise before the dawn
to check the sun appears again.
So far, so good – provided I
forget the world lights up in vain
If you were here, today, with me,
I’d ask you how and why you cope,
given we both learnt, long ago,
survival’s business is bespoke.
have any thoughts on this poem, Tom Vaughan would be
pleased to hear them.