by Julietta Gramigni
Let the space transform,
Let it slowly – almost
Without realising – become home.
Walk aimlessly and know
Its hidden passages,
Return again
And again
To learn something joyously
New each time.
Inspect each part of your view,
In every season,
Remembering soon it will belong to
Anyone else.
Collect newspapers you read once
And coins you won’t keep;
Keep the loose leaf teas you can’t use
And turn your plants like clockwork
So the sun won’t draw their
Bodies too close to the window, ready
To topple.
Pin up strange postcards,
And chip away the walls with
Art that falls and needs
Endless tending to.
Open the window,
Even in Winter,
To hear the
Brief moments when traffic
Is only a quiet rumble
And you can listen to the birds.
