choose your own adventure part I

arriving at some sort of hovel
of a destination
and clamber out of the box
(take back the postage
dust it off,
use it later,
send yourself
somewhere new)

everything has a thin coat
of dust
even you
as you emerge
it is a film that clings
and will not be moved
as you tread on floorboards
macrocarpa and pine
and they squeak
and they groan
and the house hears you
feel you
bones shake
shutters unlatch
like the windows wish
to cover their eyes

a storm whips
around the weathervane
but does not touch down
there is rain
but you cannot see it
only hear it fall
feel occasional coldness
at the back of your neck
but that could be anything
in this place

do you climb back in your box?
and hope to travel far away?

or do you find yourself wondering
why nobody is pushing the lawnmower
as it chews its way through
the neighbour’s daisies?

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Basically, I deal in words.

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