Then I break the routine
With my own tiredness
With my own laziness
I take a pen to sketch
Yet only for a few minutes
Before my patience
Defeats my limited ability
I find another book
Shelters and Baskets
But, unlike Shelters for Dreaming
This publication has no date
And so I return
Though not until after reading
The House of Belonging
Which twice made me realise
How little loss I have suffered
How little closeness I have found
Why not then pause to take
A moment, in the half-dark stillness
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