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Nocturnal Scrap From an Old Letter
Its rough cloak’s tattered folds flying
The Wind hails me with briery love—
Auspicious coolness like drouth
It’s not lonesome—Here—the wind—
In this sluggish stinking coach—
A saddening and soothing sound of harmonica
Which seems afar and arising out of shade—
Silents wanderers and vagrants
Forlorn and friendly
Larne-Glasgow, August 20, 1979
The Wind hails me with briery love—
Auspicious coolness like drouth
It’s not lonesome—Here—the wind—
In this sluggish stinking coach—
A saddening and soothing sound of harmonica
Which seems afar and arising out of shade—
Silents wanderers and vagrants
Forlorn and friendly
Larne-Glasgow, August 20, 1979