While others are wedded to electric light
I carry my thought on the road outside
I pass the den in the amber glow
Where quiet Cerberus sleeps.
The shelters at the top of the street
Are yellow and empty; no lift is coming
As rain comes spilling over the roof-tops,
The charcoal bushes keep their secrets.
And something glints in the bare class-room,
A spirit begging for warmth in her empty seat
Makes me realise I don't want to know
Where the road will lead this Autumn night
The leaves are keeping their own knowledge now
And those that gather around the gate seem meek.