always looking up

hipstamatic iPhone

What if this road, that has held no surprises

these many years, decided not to go

home after all; what if it could turn

left or right with no more ado

than a kite-tail? What if its tarry skin

were like a long, supple bolt of cloth,

that is shaken and rolled out, and takes

a new shape from the contours beneath?
And if it chose to lay itself down

in a new way; around a blind corner,

across hills you must climb without knowing

what's on the other side; who would not hanker

to be going, at all risks? Who wants to know

a story's end, or where a road will go? - Sheenagh Pugh

My eldest son had his bike stolen last night. He's had a bad run - leaving school, not finding work, a course he planned to take at college being removed from the curriculum.. about to go to Australia, he was suddenly offered a job and decided to take it so he could show some work experience on his cv - and then go to Australia later. He got the bike as an 18th birthday present and every day he's enjoyed riding it. When he came out from work, the bike, securely locked - had gone. As one friend pointed out - don't bike thieves realise a lot of people cycle because they can't afford to drive? I feel so bad for him - he felt that getting the job might have been a turning of the corner away from a run of bad luck.