Rolled out like a towel in the sand.
Just enough to get the feet wet.
The past soon washed up and took away my capacious plans.
Tears still covering the pages of my amends.
Epic are the steps to a book…
Prefaced with ‘always ask to be forgiven.’
And, with just a few words…
‘that is no way to make a living.’
The stairs up from the discomfort of mistakes deep and wide.
Beached and alone could not regain my pride.
First step, a love letter to self.
Then tomorrow, I climb.