The wind murmurs in the willow
in front of the window, while
everything we’re touching burns

By God! - Love - it is like
rain falling sizzling onto fire

Please don’t go tonight,
no, please, not this night
and the clothes ...
Hush! Love ...

Forty past three:
and the last consequence is silent

I am dreaming -
of an expedition into the no man’s land -
discovering a black octagonal tower
inside the mighty Vikings’ chieftain Varin sits,
howling about his slew son while the
police is scouring the river with drag-nets and
every corridor in our hotel has no rooms ...

Is the bus driver at St Marnock’s really still crossing himself?

And someone is asking me:
Do you believe in God?
Please, hear, I’m just dreaming -
and I wake up
and I am exhausted

While you are lying naked by my side
and the day is breaking beyond the
Venetian blind

Under the chair
hits the first sunbeam
glittering the dark
puddle