Saturday, 23 September 2017

Моментът на пристигане/The moment of arrival

                                        On that small kitchen counter at 4am,
                                        I’m looking at packets and equipment.
                                        It’s dark outside still, the dawn
                                        a promising stripe across the distance.

                                        Already neighbours are stirring:
                                        patchwork window glows, first car
                                        in the street, a cough, a door latch
                                        only just audibly lifted …

                                        When does transit end? Beneath
                                        folded boarding card print-outs,
                                        an unpacked rucksack leans
                                        into the shadow of a table.

                                        An idea of home is coming together.
                                        In this flat where I will be for now,
                                        there’s coffee on the sideboard,
                                        first trace here of shaping a life.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips

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