North Wales 1971

Still alive at the end of the week?

Just feelings, reelings, rakings of nerves.


Touch me now and now the last touch.

Lovers like tramlines into eternity.


Just feelings, gropings, graspings of limbs.


Mournful eye and mourning mouth

Standing sad at the bus-stop lay-by.


Stand by her side by side,

But will she come in the end? Depends.


Still around at the end of the night?


Just opening, glimpsing, taking the view

Of the last tram heading to eternity

To pick up the lovers.