Such an unexpected joy.
Snow falling over all of London
I sat up half the night, listening to
music and reading recondite poetry.
Foxes were foraging, furtively,
almost a futile pursuit
There was nothing to best
describe the feeling other than to
say I was calm, at ease;
The possessions of others meant
little or low.
I felt no regret, no embarrassment
for my misdemeanors or nature.
Being both alive and alone, there
was much comfort in the knowing,
the morning would bring;
Hot buttered toast and sweet tea.
(From the March 30 issue of The Big Issue)