There Are Holes

Holes, Margaret Mair, Original Art

Life –
A series of
Hidden rabbit holes
And gaping craters
We slip and slide,
Stumble and tumble
Head over heels
Get buried
To our ankles,
To our knees,
To our necks,
Over our heads.
But we
Reach, beseeching, up
Scramble, struggle, scrabble
Haul ourselves along
With aching arms,
Drag our
Weary bodies
Climb out
We must,
Climb out
We will;
Finding no joy
In dank, dusty darkness
Calm sweet air
Calls us
And we
Turn like sunflowers
To the smiling light.

Written by Margaret Mair
Picture, original art by Margaret Mair

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