Winds of Change

The day has waned into the
small hours of a new day -
the wind did not abate -
I did not wish to combat
its buffetting, its searching
cold blasting fingers, with
my body, so the garden
got on without me.

I dug out the compost bin
filled six sacks
then put on the fire,
door locked.

My new neighbour - outdoor
girl, boat girl, canal
girl, came in for a visit -
she lives out-of-doors
in her house, on a mattress
on the floor
with no carpets
and no furniture.  She settles
into the strange.

I think of you all those miles
away - the cold coast wind,
send a message as the day
has waned - you are warm
in your bed:  I hope you sleep.

I like staying here
in my room, the new day
unacknowledged, delight
in the cosy comfort here
of warmth, colour, the
soft arms of my home.  I too

settle into a way of life
I have never known.

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