A shot rings out through the soul of the city

tears through the heart, my what a pity

I have to say, about this civil decay.

Meanwhile...

Cartoon worlds on radio beams

keep pumpin’ out those material dreams

on how it feels to live celluloid reels

While...

Warm breeze moves through the neon signs

just buzzin’ and flashin’ the sign of the times

as the concrete stands as a temple to man.

Progress comes while nature goes

all the while cable repeatedly shows

pastiche of the same,

how it feels to dance in the rain.

A tangle of branches like

arthritic fingers

stretch out to clutch at

the blank sky.

Across the ridge the

winter of mountain ash

breathes soft as old deer that

silently slip off to die.

And I wonder at the night to come

and I imagine your breath, your touch,

your courage before my defiance.

For you remain strong yet swaying,

supernatural white,

a wild thing of the woods.

But that’s not why I love you, no.

I love you simply because

you remain.

A tumble of flutterbys flickered the blues

of the sky and the stream

where we used to hang

and the sway of the grasses 

washed golden reflections

that echoed the splendour 

of the water nymphs’ song.

Remember that place 

across time and space?

Remember our garden

where time was a dream?

I still hear your laughter 

so bubbling and joyous

dispersing the blues 

of our sacred stream.