It used to be pencil poised above the paper
a moment of hesitation
and then diving in
sometimes knowing where I wanted to start
sometimes knowing the end

Now I have digital scraps
I pick them up on walks
or in the sleepy moments late and early
in a sudden ray of sunshine
some I meet on darkened streets
these I pause to look back after
wonder if it's safe
then scoop them up and hurry them home
no matter what they might become

There they sit
until they catch my eye
Then I chase them
my key tapping like the pitter patter of footsteps
sometimes behind
sometimes running right past them
sometimes finding we’ve gone right round in a circle

The Heisenberg uncertainty principal of writing
I can know where to start or
where I want to end up
but whichever end I take up
I have to discover the other

stories exist at times
as particles
at times as waves
all parts of the main