Grief, don't stand near my bed tonight
I've had enough and more than I can bear
Last night was the worst: I could feel you
Watching me whilst silently standing there.
...
There is a book and pages that rustle,
A vagabond muse, bewildered
Hiding in the faces of ones that I loved
That sang, that danced, that bled.
...
How long on the lapping waters
Crowded, hungry and cold
Each heave of the boat and we thought
This flimsy bucket couldn't hold.
...
In darkest night, my soul, anguished by its plight
Tried, tried to soar free, but tied to soil
Came rushing back, to wait another day.
...
Watching the night approach with silent tread
Waiting to clasp his hand.
Waiting for that compassion
That pretends not to notice faults
...
Names, places, things.
Whither, thither, wither.
Names that speak of where you come
...
It is so very hard to be alone; from dawn to dusk
From dusk to dawn, alone, alone alone.
From a chant to a rant to a highpaying job
To an apartment in St Germain des Pres
...
Now that yesterday's pages have been turned,
Rustling, fluttering,
Flown far away
Now that those people have gone, far away
...
One day age will bend me down
And I will walk slowly like my old father.
I will have left life's mysterious codes
Those codes that slowly left me, rather.
...
Obama has a strange name they say
But then so do I
Strange for here but not for there
Stranger and stranger as the world becomes
...