Categories
Writings

Ice

I fret about falling, too much probably. It makes me body tight with fear. I take ginger steps. And then, not walking, not striding and stirring up my heart leaves me guilt ridden and unexercised. I must just wait it out. Tomorrow will be rain and a thaw. For now, acceptance of what is enough.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.