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[From field notebook, written sometime between November 14 and November 19, 1981. Headingley, Leeds]



The week begins

in blue

and warm - for November;

and comes to an end

in golds

and cold - rushing home

to a heater, to tea;

At 4:30 night

comes on shops and on me


horses of thought stamp impatiently

at cold-metal carriages, with seats of black leather,

and time is a lantern hung among trees

my cape of night rainbows

and I among chimneys

as coal smoke

and cold rains

below me


in a crystal of dreaming

in midnight of day;


And I from my window

see the world burst in flame:

Here in the cinders, dark beneath the wood:

These valley-blown embers

and all above burning,

fire in clouds, in rain mist and lowering

darkness and brightness round dinner-lights flurring.


Churches' bells flying in sparks stirred and dying,

darkness, and comfort, and peace end the day.