Like a cavern my mind was waiting,
Stripped down walls and a bare floor.
Emptiness surprised me like a well laid trap.
I never see it coming.
The long evenings are new to me,
Fresh, white-pale light stretches on,
I feel very northern and European.
And a little bit foreign.
Looking at the map I am startled ,
I could've lived anywhere else.
Weighed down by these places in which I have dwelt,
Like tent pegs they hold me firm.
Stones in my pockets to stop me from,
Wallowing in that hollow room.
I can use what I learned whilst I loitered there,
In order to fill myself.
I find that there are books on the shelf,
Sharp pencils and drawing pads.
A picture that I didn't see on the wall.
This room's not spare after all.
