The eighth green bottle

I am the artist and the ministry of all that could be wrong with me.
you’re not alone but no one is coming.

the footsteps you hear,
is your fear receding?
(my hair did that once)

and once again
I thought it was Wednesday
turned out that it’s Thursday
tomorrow is Friday
and I’m getting old.

keep safe
(or keep parrots)

© 2020, John Smallshaw.