Sometimes, like now, I am heavy with gratitude
For the grains of rice left on my dinner plate,
The reused bottle of water by my right,
Yoghurt in the fridge, stained coffee mug in the sink,
Over ripe bananas on the kitchen counter,
Fingers to type, a poem to write, books on my shelf,
The desk sized spider residing in the hallway,
A spare duvet,
Spam letters in the post and a name to claim,
The hole in the sole of the purple Adidas on my feet,
The sun’s heat on my cocoa butter skin,
A window to look through and glass to rattle in the wind,
The 57p in my passed down brown leather wallet,
This wobbly IKEA poplar and the fairly expensive things above it,
Overdue rent, the broken shower downstairs and my cheap, divorced Indian landlord,

I’m grateful for it all.