I’ve been in a strange place this week. My day job has been quite hard and I have been questioning whether I’m really capable of doing it. I finished writing my novel and have been feeling a bit lost without it, but also creatively exhausted and at the moment sort of dreading having to edit it. I feel like I want to write but that I haven’t quite got any words left.

So this morning I wrote this poem.

Mornings

There is something
reassuringly normal
about lazy mornings.
It’s eating muesli
reading the news
sipping coffee
and thinking maybe
this is the meaning of life
pleasant moments
that bridge the gaps
between the ups
and the downs.