''That's Sober in the Country''

- a poem by Anne Bell.

In a worn out, wrinkled flannel shirt She tours the country end-to-end The stranger in the little town Very soon a struggler’s friend

She sits with you for hours While you empty out your soul And then she offers you suggestions To once more make you whole

She finds no comfort in the limelight But smiles and plays the part To draw attention where it’s needed A cause, close to her heart

For not very long ago She stood there in your place And leaned hard on the bottle Logic gone, without a trace

When the days were long and troubled She drowned her problems in a glass Drank, until the feelings faded And the urge to scream would pass

Then there’s the price of being social Always offers of ‘one more’ A shouted round the problem Harder to walk on out the door

The day came for being honest She kind of just woke up When she threw away the bubbles And put coffee in her cup

And so, these days she travels To get attention and support For the topic never mentioned For the battle she has fought

She is honest, raw, and genuine Says what she feels, so bluntly She knows how to make a difference Now that she’s Sober In The Country

** a note from Shanna:

Dear Anne, this is literally the most beautiful, heartfelt, lovely gesture. From one rural girl and ''sometimes poet'' to another, I thank you. From the bottom of my heart. xx

SITC founder Shanna Whan in one of her ancient, worn out flannies with her 'best mate' Fleabag.