SK Grout

Terminus—the god of boundaries—carries gifts like a wave
                   he hums /
                                  lives in a space
                                                   where only meaning is present /
takes the land marching
                while we flinch in doorways /
                              shifts between third and fourth
dreaming of open roads /
                              screams curses at gates and walls
                                                                           and politicians /
and for you to call it a summer house
               is slightly off the mark /
                              it is Autumn / it is April /
it is algebra /
               it is the steady wisdom of detail
                              and the unravelling until
it is honest, it is watching the sky /
               as if they’re playing
                              your favourite film for free /
for swear /
               forever /
                              good things ahead