Because Of
Storm Approaching |
Water pours
brown out of the tap, but hot, restfully hot. Window chinked open to let out
steam. Swamp meets spa, lying in mud coloured water, peering through fog.
Beyond the glass, trees lash, boughs crack, things whistle, flap, blow away.
Storm air tendrils in, gentle-curious. Small dark bodied spiders tuck up in
corners. One taupe slug navigates peels of paint, over on the wall where the
mould is boldest. The geranium is making an effort. This thought, as the water
pours, brown and hot, scooped up for rinses in the plastic pot that once held
sweets at the Shaolin Circus:
That not in spite of this but because of it, happiness is here.
Dog loves Swamp Spa |
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