Home...

I sent a text today referring to being in the place formerly known as home.

And then this evening I was caught by the sudden draw back to what has become home. I'm in a strange place. I am a stranger. So I did what have to do to make sense of this.

I wrote a poem.

But in a very different style to how I normally write.

The bitter tang of wood smoke

Envelops and fills the sodden air

The night, encroaching without relent

As frantic birds call their last calls.

The gentle rush of a distant train

Push thoughts to that place now home,

Beyond the grey clouds of a distant horizon

Yet never further, than the closing of eyes