Pulse to pulse, drowning in feathers
Swept by tides of love all moonful midnight,
In the sea and sand having
A pint and potatoes with no salt,

Love is sweet whilst it travels
Close to each other and nature
Together we share time
And time in turn shares us

The pain of recognition bites
Like the rail tracks turning, turning…

Streaks of light and shadow, smell of smoke
Pulse to pulse as the lightning crashes in from the West

Drowning in wool.