The kindness of strangers…

Last night I woke in pain as I had gone round the harbour and got stuck on unmown grass at the end and no one was in sight. I put my trolley in neutral and put the back down on the seat. I laid over it and walked forward and then saw people.

I am grateful for the kindness of strangers. Thank God. But then Martin and I got misunderstanding each other and I got no sleep after 3 am.

I napped today, but no I cannot stand up. I am waiting for Martin to get back from his bike ride.

How much fluid can my body make/? How much can pour from me? I can;t cope…

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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