by ianblackpoet

Among the birds of Leicester square
Aground below the icy air
Upon a silent bench, alone
My thoughts diverge and take me home

Among the trees in vacant woods
In days I still believed I could
Lift up my hand into the air
And from the ether, pigment tear

When stars at night were bright as day
And never seemed so far away
But always shone at my command
Within the reach of my right hand

Among the birds of Leicester square
And smothered by the icy air
The stars, no longer mine to hold
It seems that time has left me old