Lose, win

The long journey to the known
through fields of haze and
almost-haar, pink hills -
a hawk flew low in front
of the screen, I slowed down
to admire and miss him, his
beautiful wings, intelligent face
soared over the field, the
updraught catching his fingers

known streets, buildings, routes
(you'd think I still lived here)
parked up in the elegant sand-
stone West End with leaves and
cosmopolitan

high corniced ceilings, everything
in its place, beautifully apppointed
I stood in her golden room
at the grand piano, sun dimmed
by white grace blinds

then a walk through a road
I now hate
I was glad to finish, leave,
drive away, vowed
I'd never go back to the
exterior facades
hiding all the dark guts
and the homeless discarded
in gutters, hurt displaced
by greed and ego:

the undercroft
propping up
a rotting edifice
with the stink of money
strong in the nostril
set foot in the door
and you're lost
in a maze
you can do nothing but lose

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