there’s only so much reading you can do

so much listening to storms rumble in

from far horizons

we think this earth is solid under us

but talk to a seismologist

then you’ll quake

we carry this dream of solidity

with us always: in hospital, at the grave-side, while boozing at the wake

everywhere our dream allows us to live

hoping, just hoping

that we’re travelling towards

the harbour

and not heading straight into

the eye of the storm.