The Architecture of Cardboard (Poetry)

The plot is chosen well —
inconspicuous in the shelter of an arch
he is detached — no neighbours —
the grey slabbed pavement stretching clear —
unlittered like he has concerns for the environment
bordering on houseproud.

He’s just a city nomad putting down worn roots
for a night or maybe two —
his recycled cardboard flexed and shaped
sculpted like a lowly corrugated tomb —
unadorned and neat in its utility
modest with its needs.

The bridge-thrown shadows form part of his design
for living and surviving
with insulation gathered to dam out
the long dark’s deep and saturating chill
when passing traffic thins and quietens
and sleep rustles through stiff layers of his bed.