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That puddle has splashed me again.
It is a puddle that is unconnected to rain.
It is on my way to work and I pass it every day.
At least once a week I am wet, it just happens that way.
This malicious pool of greasy water.
Just does not act as I perceive it ought too.
Eventually I recognised this is something strange.
It is both annoying and repetitive, surely I am deranged.
Is it planning to trap me, splash me?
Or to force me to skirt round it, with glee.
Is it there to test me, to challenge my very being?
Both evil and bewitched, it must be worryingly all seeing.
Am I confused, is this a metaphor?
For what waits for me outside my front door.
And are my concerns just a damp patch after all?
Is the reality, actually, that this puddle is really quite small?



Makes me think that ...

For many work does not start and stop at appointed times in the day. Strategies, tactics and actions are often ever present. Alongside all the doing, the feelings and emotions work creates are ever present. Our concerns and anxieties, real or imagined, come splashing in our mind and can feel as impossible to control as the weather.


Lorraine Ansell

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This poem is narrated by Lorraine Ansell​ a British female voice over artist who is graciously supporting WorkInWords.

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