I hang my skin up to dry

It brings no comfort

The weight of my experience

Barely lifted

Did we fare well my boy

As the weather closed in

Around us.

The coast road travelled

The sand and sea, a strip of illumination

As the stars and moon looked down

Seeking a connection

There are people who believe this to be a metaphor

Whilst others

Gather their own stories.

What of the journey

When the road is washed away

There is never an easy passage

To the safety of our front door

But the light from the sky

Is a window to the soul

And that is alright with me.

My hung skin

Is still there waiting

On a hook to dry

Please tell me, was it worn well

Did it ever fit

Was it thick enough

Or was it always much too thin?