Home is...

it isn't where I lay my head
it isn't where the heart is
it isn't pouring another drink
or admiring works of art
it isn't climbing in and out of train windows
it isn't losing itself in the landscape
it isn't where I left it
it isn't under the bed
it isn't in my retraced steps
it isn't collecting dust
on the shelves of lost property offices
at central stations
it isn't traversing this muddy terrain
it isn't hiding in the shade
it isn't in this song
it isn't in this crowd
it isn't locked in this sweaty embrace
it isn't in the guidebook
it isn't off the beaten track
it isn't anywhere I have ever dreamed of
I haven't found it at last







June 2009.