It’s got to be madness [I think]

condensation [cloche-wondering


amid the uncharacteristic silence of all the birds of Oxford


The skyline

Expectation  denied [I compare myself]

[I watch] a couple at home in these invernal pathways

[I explore] non-recognition and non-belonging through

name-plaques on every wall: familiar   to them


[Litost and a meditation on indecipherability]

Along the deadman’s walk, I hope

these things are not symbols:

  1. The neat folding of leaves into their own deaths
  2. That bench where worlds’ borders thin for separated lovers
  3. The silence of the birds
  4. The old age [and likely long marriage] of the couple


[Projection that this may be an indictment of belonging and love]


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