You know those moments when someone comes to check up on your life and be amused by it- and the visitor is actually another version of yourself? Well, this poem is about one of those moments.
I went and dug it out of the archive because today is a day just like the one it describes- cold and dank, with the colours of things seeming to glow from within because there isn't any sun.
Heavy boned Sandra opens the gate,
Out of the leaf-mould onto the lawn
Of the orange-brick semi. She smells of her day
In a classroom glassed against sodden November.
Sunless November, the forms are glowing
With implicate energy. Sandra says,
"So this is myself as I am in my teens
As a fashion-disaster and senselessly happy."