| The Poetry of Richard Sansom Published by The British Sansom Society | |
 
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| Habitat My haunted habitat has burned, its charred remains are black, and small. There’s yellow ribbon round about like a crime scene all laid out for the examiner of truth to tell what caused the conflagration there, what hand or lightening struck a spark to start the rooms ablaze and fill the air with memory so thick the truth becomes a haze. My haunted habitat has burned, where I did live and lie among its rooms. I must invent a new one now on this same plot, somehow divine a safer place to keep my face. | |
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