The floor

When the back is aching

And the mind fatigued

If I can’t find a tree

I head for the floor

Back to a wall

Or stretched out

Along the timber

There is something solid


About being on the floor

You can’t slip any deeper

Fall over

It is hard and flat and long

To lie upon

Let the kinks and sprains

Of daily pressure

Sink and seep away

Stare at the ceiling

The confounded web

A spot

Where the magpie came inside

And couldn’t get out again

Till I threw a jumper over it and carted it back out to the garden

But don’t think about that now

Close the eyes

You can’t fall

You’re held

Even if you roll

You’re held

There is something so comforting

About the floor

*do you feel me? Or is this weird I don’t know – I just really like my polished timber floor. It’s Rosegum – hardwood, beautifully coloured. Expertly secret nailed by my husband and scratched here and there by life, the dog, the kids when they were younger. It glows.

We have a long hallway that is very long – all timber I can run from my kitchen around to my bedroom and I do that quite often, or back the other way – if you’re in socks you can slide.

And I do that too.

Getting older is a given but…I said to my son the other day I wonder if I’ll still run down this hallway when I’m old – I think I will as I can’t imagine ever not doing it.

Photo of my three clowns – talk about a riot of smiles with this lot.

6 thoughts on “The floor

  1. I do the same thing lay on the floor – it’s beautiful Kate – oh except I don’t run unless something is chasing me.🙅🏼‍♀️

  2. Look at those faces! What charming friends! I always feel you have to choose to “unlearn” the natural impulse to play, even as the body requires a little more patience. We were created to play. I love the floor. I have a space where I sit and across from me, mounted 3 inches up (from the floor) is a map of the world. Whenever I have a problem, I sit and look at the world and remember “it’s not “all about me.” Love your posts and the thoughts they inspire!

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