The woods are motionless. A distant jet plane. An unseen chuck chuck chuck of a blackbird in the leaf litter. A gunshot tears through the air, two more ricocheting off Meltham hill. One blackbird alarm call then the woods remain silent.
My body is forced into stillness but
my mind Is a swirling fair ride of noise and lights. Maybe I am driving the woods into silence, holding it’s breath, waiting for me to let the calm in. I’m on the waltzer - job, money, house, job, emails, parents, children, job, money, job, Christmas, house. I need to move, to walk this off.