Nothing for Granted pt 1
There was a time when words flowed freely, which I have taken for granted. And yet in those moments, I was keenly aware that the words that were pouring onto paper came to fast to be my own.
The following was inspired by a man met in a town called Franz Josef. He goes by the name Justin.
we went tramping round
down the south Island
rode waves of christ church
of a solid kind
westward bound
no longer means pacific sun
rain came down
as ice on the move was found
It slid by oh so fast
we almost missed its passenger
a man behind a beard
a smile sheltered from the...