Pastel colours in quiet refrain
Hands still on the chiming clock
Whisper in case I hear myself
Look behind the picture frames
Dust, a relief of many years standing
Unplugged, from the upright room lighter
Unmoved from a mother's generation
Flock wallpaper abides in the memory
Even of just and only the place
Billericay Close or Quebec Narrows
All I ask is contemplation
About and around a race of which I'm out
All I ask is elevation
About to surround myself, unable without
Pastels, flocks & dust; trust the
Background music, the mood, the blues
Create paisley patterns; young men, bare feet
Pylons, stanchions, mill floors flattened
Valleys of derelict cotton works
Countries of windblown cotton fields
