Thursday, 7 January 2010


I live across the river
From the public and the publican,
Away behind the inland tide
With everyone who ever ran.

I move amongst the alcoves,
Over rooms of older rumours,
Amidst the webs of interest
Where less than some have more.

I sleep under the steeples,
Nearer naught than crosses,
Then wake up from the waste land
To find my blessing’s closet.

I stay until the stars fall,
Before the morning’s breath,
Then go before the glory
The universe has left.

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