By Parson Thru
Was it Halifax?
Or Burnley, maybe?
Somewhere with a canal.
Where I put my back out?
The step-across the boulder in full view.
Faith in thin air and what comes next.
Faith in upper body strength.
At least that part still works.
The sensation that it could have been much worse.
Worse than sagging shorts, arse hanging out, stretching, mawing, pressed against the wall.
A blindman’s backtrack:
probing, reaching, standing, finally, legs-a-wobble in the beck.
Shame about my back.