No gentle lap of wave
Not in this town
Of rebuilt choynes and
Early morning road-sweepers
Hard to pick out one crash
Amongst the relentless onslaught
A sea angered by the southerly winds
A noise as much as any other noise
Easier to dwell on the sunlight
Dancing upon the piers tall pillars
Easier, to think of you, asleep
As I crept out of the bedroom window
