(From the Little Black Book)
Thursday 13 August 2009 12.01pm Somewhere
I carry your hugs in my pocket
everywhere I go
So that whenever my legs are wary
of the endless walking
or I fall down
flat on my face
and my eyes turn blind
because of the ugly sights
having to wake up
to darkness
When all hopes are lost
and faith is skinny
I just have to reach into my pocket
and take out your
warm consoling hugs,
wrap your arms around my tired soul...
And the sun would shine again.
(To my granma)