3rd September, '07

I’m contemplating pulling out my suitcase
And packing everything I own;
I didn’t back then, but I do know now
That wherever you are is home.

- The artist formerly known as Prince, 'A Million Days.'

My current address
is no longer a postcode;
it is a column I leave blank
on forms for the telephone,
and temporary job
applications.
My current abode
is no longer a room
or a place that I own;
it is a road,
that makes its way from London
to Pontarddulais.
The M4,
snaking past Reading,
then Swindon and Bristol, before
transcending
the Severn
and descending
in Wales.

I am waiting.
As life is currently lived out
in transit
between two cities:
on one end the bay,
on the other the Thames.

As always,
it is the two Hs that loom
high over the Severn bridge
that call out;
spread-eagled,
my markers by day,
my lighthouses by night,
my radar and compass, both,
twin signposts
on that eternal journey,
the quest for Home.