Dark alleyway —
Door and river, expansive,
Adept at the accordion and the fiddle —
Play a tune, once more, before I am weighed down
And laid down again!
I will look out of the window
And I will watch the shapes unfold
Under the glare of the garage lights,
And the strange objects that they hold.
In another place, damp,
Perhaps, and tiled in green and blue,
They crouch, whirr, heavier
By the hour, perched on a curb. And I,
Many miles away, breathing
The stewing air of some city
And some tune.
