sunol’s sycamore leaves

in my little room
in my little room

my new little room here at school
isn’t the same sort of place for melancholic composition
as the bubble I was in last year

But I get the sunrise.
and I’ve filled it with my found-metal mobile
and a secretary and orchids
(there isn’t sunlight enough for anything else)

and this is fine.
the piles of leaves on my way home mark
that it is again that time of year

this year I’ve got titles
(House Manager, Co-Lead, Nicola, okay not that many)
and a pile of books.

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