This was inspired by a friend who’s moving home. As someone who was transient for a few years, I can empathise. Starting life in a new place can be daunting, but often we’re moving away from something else, where the wallpaper’s peeling. Home is the cloakroom for hearts…
For some of my more recent poems, when I’ve posted them as images (better for Instagram) I’ve positioned the text so that the poem can be read either monologue (down) or as though in harmony (across). I wonder if this is working?