365 DAYS

365 days ago today
a fireseed, his wife and their woodle
flew across the gobi desert and the siberian wasteland
to begin a new life in albion
knowing not what they would find
they had given away most of their worldly goods
save for clothes, books, computer and guitars
which charted a different route
aboard a container ship passing through the persian gulf
they had no jobs or school to go to
only a place to lay their heads
and the love and patience of a family
the woodle acclimatised quickly
slipping effortlessly into the school routine
fitting in with the other little herberts
by rapidly acquiring a brummie accident
the woodle's mother found it harder to acclimatise
the draughty autumn made her shiver
the winter chill dug deep into her bones
the spring gusts stung her cheeks
the damp summer congealed the blood in her veins
she busied herself looking after the woodle
she took solace in the realms of cyberspace
cementing new friendships
across counties and continents
until finally she earned her place in the sun
crossing continents once again
and what of our fireseed?
our quixotic adventurer?
more sure of what he doesn't want
than what he wants?
he cast around for a sense of direction
he castanet far n wide
following his intuition
sometimes feeling his way blindly in the dark
brushing off his critics
taking succour from his supporters
preparing the ground
laying the foundations
mangling his metaphors
looking out for lady luck
biding his time
waiting for them to come knocking
waiting for the fish to bite
waiting like a mangy panther
to spring into action