Too Late To Be Tomorrow 27/12/24

Past It

I cycled down to you

through midnight snow.

We sat on a bridge,

home was too far,

you were upset.

At me?

Maybe.

Feeling went first,

my legs or your heart,

maybe both.

You said things you'd say

you didn't mean,

that was later.

For now it was all I heard.

After hours, I walked you home.

I stayed,

I don't know why.

I heated space and nothing more.

Besides,

the snow was falling indoors too.

New

I know a man who fixes toilets,

who cuts up baths,

and takes down tile.

I know a woman who plasters walls,

straightens out skirting,

and rips down cupboards.

From broken boards,

and fresh thrown paint,

I saw them take rooms,

and stitch a home.