She clung to words as if they could save her
and she believed that they could.
Words she had written and words by others
were oxygen AND she needed them to keep going.
She found they whispered to her while
she walked and rambled about.
If she was still for too long they had nothing to say.
If she scurried and hurried they hollered
but she couldn’t hear them.
It was in that perfect balance of move, pause, wander and wait
where they spoke with surety, confidence and wisdom.