Robert Urquhart

the wind shaking the grass suddenly before the rain

the wind down there at our feet and over our heads

who would know the way not there but a way for
another step

beginning all over again as though from nothing

but isn’t it terrible coming back after all those years
and nothing stirs

what was happening in the room and might have
been a glimpse in the mirror a billowing of the curtain a
chair overturned

home was where first was and a before and a well
now what and a some where else