HOMESICK FOR THE DAY BEFORE YOU CAME
As we walk along the road
I’d gone beyond Abba, but Abba caught up
with me it was a young day the day before you came
it was the kind of day when everyone looks at you and takes shape
and: did the curtains in the doorway move there was no wind
something sank buckling aside a flood a flare of light
in the light a singing colouring of colours to themselves
it was the day before you came I breakfasted as usual
I think and I read the paper at work I suspect
probably also lunched and walked back to the tram
the key in the lock no sense of living without aim
but all that advent into nothing the day before you came.