Stone clouds, monuments, limestone and sky,
blue on glinting wings and massive grey below.
Steel-grey rope of river, iron wall of mist stroking wings with thunder water.
North is the sun and golden sand, the hope of the turning year.
Comfortable seat — Maddy on my knee,
Chippy looking out through the magic window,
Coca-Cola on his lap.
Here am I balanced above the world again,
no Sue to share it this time,
no thought dares travel much beyond the beauty of the clouds.
Stone clouds.
Stone tears in my eyes.
24 December 1988