West South stain, passed daily
I hope to meet you somewhere after all this
I'll make it up in quiet time, I promise
Gentle, quiet, time, from stream to sea, think of all the lives washed through
Into raging torrents we hurl ourselves, unaware of the tide
Slack water in my soul, everything gone flat
Cardboard houses filled with cats, calico comrades
Find a corner in the dark and stare
Light the lamps so the fish can find our floating home