In between the rafters
Beneath the flattened lead
A regenerative recirculation
Still yet moving, slow air
The breath of silence
Slower than the breeze
Black cloaks stride out
Tread the aisle with purpose
All of those old words
Roof space freely had you
Praised other men’s verse
Worse to leave you left
Without your own memories
Absent of your own meditations
Taken from the collection Words in Aspect South Facing - Available from Amazon for Kindle
