The dropping of the daylight in the West
All that was left of them
While horse and hero fell
Skirting the churchyard walls, my stomach busy
Mighty fly our lives like paper kites
My city takes me dancing through the city of walls
They accuse me of absence, they circle me.
And his brother waiting on the shore
A healing star
among the wounded
a yellow sunrise
to the dying.
After A Tennyson, Browning, J Weir, I Dharker, C Rumens, B Garland