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"You can’t see the sea from my window.

From my window I see dogs, great and small,

People in their Sunday best

and shoes scuffed on the wall.

From my window I leap,

Scream at the floor, fall silent and weep.

From my window I reach out to the heavens

In colours green, yellow, red and blue.


I see lights

Wrapped in greys and whites

And also beautiful women,

With long legs and sad faces.

From my window I see the future and its fearful hue

I see a broken arch and a lost shoe

From my window I let my memories fly away

And I float out with them

Amidst the spring and the peace of the day.


From my window I dive into deep water

I come out, go down, 

Up and down where the dark waters drain.

Like a suggestible balloon,

Thrall to the whims of the weather vane. 


From my window I see wires

Which were once roads, paths and toil

From my window I see the world, mist,

Sin’s recoil


I look back at the curved floor.


From my window…."


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