Breeze on the back of the neck
like a breath,
soothes as it comforts
annoys as it saddens.
A reminder of what’s needed.
That what’s required isn’t always available,
to be invited into some lives.
That the surrogate, however flimsy
however far removed from the real thing,
For some, it’s their equal to the real.
Their thrill of the fresh outside.
Contact, that’s absent almost all of the time.
© Jim Laing 2016.