A wee preview of a short (and sweet?) poem from a little collection based on women's experiences.
This poem was me in a menopausal moment...And not a mention of purple in sight.

Brain Fog Soup

My friends didn't stay for my soup.
They took one look at the gloop
and the ninepence rolls, my
inability to put coffee on
the stove and they
drove off
down
the
road.