Middle Of Nowhere

Middle of Nowhere

Summer sky through green leaves suspended,
hammock swinging, bare foot and shoulder;
absent without leave from my own life.
Smashed pots lie quiet by the wall.

Birds sing verses of ordinary pleasures,
cars park in the street, children laugh;
the kitchen clock marks continual hunger.
A raven pours her blue eye over me.

Favoured notebook and blue pen by me,
tea cooling, the quiet house beyond;
this space too small for maps or legends.
Reason’s left me ringing empty.