Wednesday, 23 February 2011

And Still The Light Keeps Burning

I run down
A never ending slope
To a bright blue lake
Of sympathetic water
Surrounded by
The red and white stripes
Of deck chairs
In a room
In the country
Near one of those roads
Which goes round
And round
Next to the signpost
Pointing to the village
Of strange smiles
And don't you know faces
Facing nothing
That you don't know
Already
Connected by wires
To the socket
In the wall 
Where a picture
Hangs
Telling me I've been
There before
Before my eyes closed
On artificial sunshine
Trying to create
A world of their own
To see where the
Bluebells grow
In the pine needle wood
Next to the field
Where I fell asleep
And forgot
To turn the light off.

20 April 1972

 

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