As hail streamed thunderous fingers against the temple
of tarmac stained streets,
dotted lines smeared with yellow streaks
as though an unhappy child had wrenched stubby fingers
down the black sheet of sugar paper
which pointed the way down the smooth roads of
I stepped back into its embrace, the anterior of
the temple of my unfamiliar familiar.
The groove in the dashboard,
the elusive gear lock no longer existed
but the hum of petrol, and the cloak of mist still persisted.
I was home, but far away from home.
From the pulse of blood-red soil which
jingled and jived through livingroom stereos.
The bond had been drawn taut, yet now it hung slack,
loose, a faint, fraying rope that had twisted
into the crevices of pumping cardiac chambers.
I was deep within the temple of my unfamiliar familiar,
I needed to return, and turn, towards the memories, to re-create,
to create a very present reality.