A Great Big Stone Poem by GRANT FRASER

A gradual coming too,
birds, distant white noise,
dry throat, awoke last night
in the pitch black living room,
both of us, only the the red
pilot light on T.V. to guide me,

You wouldn't budge! andI had
lead attached to my legs & head,
too much of that Bowmore malt,
it's so peaty and mild, but packs
a punch, it's great to distance
yourself from time to time,
depressurise this Covid 19,

After certain attempts to ditch
cell phone applications,
keep healthy for my job,
just want to pack it all away
for a few hours, switch off
the mighty molecule in my head,

But it's Sunday now,
and outside doesn't look too bad,
even if it is, and I cleared the work
station of various cartons, jars, and bags,
because I got up with part verve,
thoughts requiring attention,

Now I'm stumped?
as the poetry bit starts to slow..
it's everything though, a meditation,
a note from me to you, and you to me,
and the voice inside stalwart and free,
" Happy Easter, a great big stone! "