Meditation I sit, wrapped in a duvet, by the window. Outside, the streetlamp sends a yellow glow across the blankness of the neighbour’s wall. What else? a pole, a clothesline made of cable. A distant train horn sounds its two-note warning; somewhere its headlamp slides towards a platform where people hang about with bags and coffee, ready for doors that open on urgent journeys. Meanwhile, the sun is rising, the wall whitens. Someone unlocks their door. A scooter guns between the houses, joins the traffic sounds that heave and flow about me. The pole is rusting, the empty cable sways upon the breeze. I sit among the beingness of things.
Rowan Middleton teaches English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Gloucestershire. His pamphlet The Stolen Herd is published by Yew Tree Press.
Amethyst Review 