Lines

Say ‘lines’ and I think washing line and lines on my face.

Say ‘lines’ to my six year old and she says –

‘They’re everywhere Mummy! Everything has a line!’

I think, ‘Thick and thin, zig-zags, straight and curved.’

Lines drawn on paper and etched in the sand.

Lines painted on the grass, to mark a running track,

Lines on a road, a runway, a chalk-board –

or painted by the jet streams of the planes in the sky.

Lines on my hand, mark the chapters of my life,

Lines of grey in my hair show the moving on of time.

Yes, lines, they are everywhere.

Lines in my sight. Lines in my heart.

Lines imagined in the dark, linking up the stars.

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