Sport 40: 2012
It was a wind that started
as a small disturbance off the coast
that ﬁnally took the place apart.
We’d seen it, a cat’s-paw on the water
and said, ‘Wouldn’t want to be out in that.’
We lived, but all the time felt it coming. There were ﬂowers on the table.
The beds were warm.
We had plenty of ﬁrewood in the winter
and in summer opened all the windows and doors.
Still it came and to no one’s surprise whisked away what we’d called home. Surely we should be
packed and gone off to another life, not still be here standing and staring so stupidly.