Poem of the Week: For a Stranger

I have made the tea and shy-burnt toast
while temporarily losing a self in the skyline.

Sun appears for exactly that long
you might stand in it and become warm.

What needed water has been watered,
what needed feeding has been fed.

By evening I will have made a few marks on paper
and put them in a place where you might find them.

Michelle O’Sullivan’s poem is from her new collection, Then the Hare (The Gallery Press)