It seems so long since I was by your fireside
Dreams like lily of the valley rising,
Earthly shadows moving across the tiles;
The soil in my heart was about to flood
But the stem-bowed flowers take stiff breaths in the city
A hesitation: so no-one can arrange them wrong.
I miss the lane were the woman used to sell eggs,
Where the humiliation at the end of the lane pales
With these rain dowsed stones that damn my every step
Stinking chests of anxiety, blotting the bottom of rivers
It’s In the death pangs of some wounded deer
Whose pupils are the alley you walk through
the August Summer in your hair, your bells bloom
While all my guts have disappeared.
I spend my time looking into electric fires
Till advent clouds come flowing through the window
It's then I feel the shadows move across the tiles
And every feint remembrance makes me tremble.