Mapping

Continuing my map project, I wrote this piece of creative writing.  Not prose but possibly not a poem either!

Mapping 

Folded up.
Keeping information enclosed and secret.
Unfolding.
Fold up.
Fold down.
Concertina folds.
Slowly unfolding.  No longer hidden.

Spread out.
Spread across a table.
Spread out on a car bonnet.

Tracing the route with a finger.
Following the blue, the red, the orange, the yellow
And even the white.
Tracing the dotted lines of pathways and bridleways.

Refolded to show the area required
Tears along the creases from frequent folding and unfolding.

Churches with spires. Churches with towers.
Viewpoints, historic houses, gardens
Symbols, names, scale.

A route from A to B.
A straight route.
A meandering route.

Rivers, canals and railway lines
Geography and history side by side.

Miles and mile of potential.
Adventures waiting to happen.
Here be dragons!

But life. 

Life doesn’t come with a map.
No manual. Just the clock.
60 seconds.
Tick.
60 minutes.
Tock.
60 hours.
Tick.
60 days.
Tock.
60 years.
Tick tock. 

Morning
Evening
Afternoon
J Alfred Prufrock
Measuring out his life with coffee spoons
Tick. Tock.

Thanks for joining me today
Bernice