One night I climbed a crazy, cobbled hill
And glimpsed myself some thirty years ago;
A troubled child despondent in the snow,
A banished ghost and yet remembered still.
I’ve seen myself elsewhere on silent streets,
On busy roads, in stations, trains and cars;
A spectre drinking in the same old bars -
Far younger and untouched by life’s defeats.
My ghosts will alwa...
Monday 10th March 2014 10:05 pm
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