SHE COMES HOME

i
looked the dusk
dead
in
its
flat leaves and golden eye
and
i
announced to its nostalgia tones
that
if
she
didnt
come 
home
id be drinking again

if she didnt come home
id
be
out in the fields with a bottle
announcing
to
the
dusk
and its hints of doom
that
creep
in
round the sides of our eyes
that
she didnt come home
and
that
im drinking again

  but
  she
  does
  come
  home
with that rail station smile
and that rail station skip
that clean musk
and 
those soft paws
and
so
i put the kettle on for brews
and
eat 
my greens
  happy
    relieved 
      and
      alive