Butterflies with gilded wings this morning

Touched the red sun and the rain

On the bridge the workers pass in threes and fours and

fives

To my sleeplessness 

Reflections after Jane


How I long to live inside a window

By the sighing motorway

Feel the city searching for my loneliness

In all the dust and glass

Reflections after Jane


And I see her all on a golden Sunday

With her hair so dark in the rain


Who is in the newspapers this month or week or year

My silent friend

I can starve my life into a deeper sleep

Remembering

Reflections after Jane