Where was i back then?
The Outer Hebrides?
Sheffield?
Vienna?
All i know is i was in all 3 of those places
but have been in New Zealand
2 months shy of 3 years;....
long enough to become a resident,
long enough to have played a part in several thousand
loaves of bread
and lived in 5 different places
including a bunker and a caravan,
long enough to have exhausted a city
and seen babies grow into amazing running, falling
reasoning beings.
Starting off on the North Island and now down South,
or the New North, as i prefer to think of it,
(for i have always gravitated towards the poles)
far from the maddening crowds, in a beautiful valley
with a mountain at its head, a river
and four miles of dirt track with 4 water crossings
to reach the tarmac out.
Was it planned to be this way?
No.
All that shaped it was a keen eye for the next
Wrong Way Street.
But now i'm here and safe in The Compound
it feels the right time for more Wrong endeavors
and particularly those of the written word.
Let the fonticism begin!