Through
When I woke up the world
Only came up as far as
My own front door,
Which is fine.
That’s what I made
My home here for:
A house on a hill
With a definite in
And a definite out
And a definite choice
Between the two.
But missing a dimension
I leapt aboard the sunset
Valley train
To where the wind finds
Ways through my skin
And bone and the blown
Bristol sand blasts in
Out of every hole
In the front and the back
Of my skull and even
The light, the Mesolithic light,
Spears through my sinews
Like dark matter
Apparently does
Beyond my urban perception.
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