The night draws to a close, lullaby sound
Of traffic rushing along Regent Road
On which I walked alone to the home ground
Where I now write, safely in comfort mode
The world turns and tomorrow’s cocks have crowed
Though no-one’s heard them yet, yet it’s still so
Just like past winters when it clearly snowed
Whether my eyes saw or feet trod, or no
The future’s fixed just like the past; both go
Where we can’t see and remain to each bound
We’re somewhere in between, and both have flowed
Through our red rivers, arteries that slow
With imperceptible speed. Round and round
It all goes, following some secret code
Thur 18 Dec 2008
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