Even asleep the heat overwhelms
To wake with perspired skin
Here then still the prisoner
On the final journey
A courtesan about to fly
A writer to hold the broken lead
One last time
Outdoors it is marginally cooler
The draught floats through the open door
Into the courtyard, into the library
Across the road from Grand Central Station
Back along
In bars and sherbet fountains
We were glad, expectant in high summer
Mad with excitement, pretty dresses
Long, long legs, friendship and gaiety all around
Surrounded; life closed in on all sides, leaves fell
Thank heavens for seasons, a reason for last winter
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