a february postcard from regina

In my best shoes I started falling
forward down the street
I stopped at a church and jostled
through the crowd
And love followed just behind me,
panting at my feet
As the steeple tore the stomach from a
lonely little cloud

[...]

These streets are frozen now. I come
and go
Full of a longing for something I do
not know
My father sits slumped in the deepening snow
As I search, in and out, above,
about, below

(from Nick Cave, "Darker with the Day")