Yes

The misty, grey dawn of an uncertain day.
Pain from my little toe, dull throb slowly evolving to dark ache.
The empty tea bucket, persuading for refill.
A favourite pencil, chunky reassurance in a sweaty palm.
The indy music soundtrack as constant to early morning writing.
My son’s picture, fading photographic colour.
His sister beside, brilliant even at birth.
Artwork scattered, fragments of wood and rock from places past.
The Egyptian cat with determined, unerring stare.
These are my constants, reassuring friends that never leave.
Stomach rumbles, brain flickers, firing of slowly awakening neurons.
The day calls me, inviting more memories.

I listen, and then follow.