you ask me the most beautiful thing in the world I say
the light in the clouds by the fast train that goes between
Glasgow and Edinburgh on quarter hours. Many would
disagree. I feel I spend half my life on that train with
a tin or a plate or with nothing at all and my parents
have moved and my brother has moved and I am so used to
the thought that we don’t choose to stay that it took me
a year to consider that some roots can turn into vines
trailing after you after all maybe that’s no bad thing maybe
a tendril won’t trip you or if it does bless the dirt sometimes
your friend calls and tells you come back and you
come back.
