She drives down to a room
On Rainbow Hill
And sits in the car staring
At raindrops on the windscreen
Which look like tiny
Planets in the darkness,
And she feels like an astronaut
Weightless, about to take her first
Moon walk, then realising
She had gone to the wrong moon.

Then she goes inside
Climbs the bright green stair carpet
Up to door number two
And is surprised when her key fits
But not that it is cold and dark
And stale from the cigarettes downstairs.

And she rolls a sleeping bag
And some blankets on the floor
And blocks up the fireplace
With a blue flowery eiderdown
To give the spiders something
To think about, and she takes
Her toothbrush and soap
Into the bathroom
And drops the towel on the floor
And trips over it in her muddy shoes.

Then she gets undressed and finds
A place for her clothes,
On a chair in the corner
And turns out the light and stands
At the window as if they might
Walk past, and she's checking that
They will never find her here.

Then she lies awake wondering
When the street light goes out
Just as it does, and more people
Coming up from the takeaway
And she listens not realising
She is listening for her name.
And then the wind and rain,
And a train coming straight towards her
Then veering off
At the last moment.