Fall Back

Lost three thousand hours,

a summer of self-pity.

Equinox gifts one.

We’ve been living out of a bag for five months now. And on the furniture of those kind people who’ve shared their homes while we find one of our own. Having no daily plan is unsettling in a way that holidays are not. Regularly losing clothes, documents and keys is the least of it: losing time and the daily opportunity to simply sit at my own computer and compose, design and organise has muddled with my head. Writing poetry on a phone proved complicated but then I realised a hiaku fits the small screen nicely. Still bitter about the seller who pulled out and made us homeless for so long, it made me laugh to realise that 31 October gave back one hour of the 3360 others which were hoovered up by the vacuum of living nowhere.