I recognise repetition. Tick. I can place food in my mouth
At last! I can sit up without falling all the way down
Rising Tide. I can crawl and pick up stuff. Waning Moon. I can stand and fall without hurting. Morning star. One leg shuffles forward. Barking dog. I can run
Magpie Warbles. Hordes pound. Traffic lights beep. Surrounding sound.
I can speak
With it clasped in my hand, I recall making that mark before. I make that mark again. Line, circle, triangle and square
These are my marks. Is this where I dwell, in the marks I make?
Hermeneutic / Bruce Graham Fell