The sun bows, outside the window
Clouds don a shade of black.
In a dimly lit side room,
Bulbs flicker. Hope turns its back.
Clock hands stack the seconds.
Eyelids straining with the fear
That in the hollow of my dreams
You’ll disappear
With the wave of a gloved hand
Under a pristine white sheet.
I trace the wrinkles, map the dimples
Painted upon your fading face.
Until sleep seduces me
With a miragelike place.

 In a bygone labour club
Stinking of potbellied men and last week’s booze,
Past peeling walls and propped up pool cues
Carelessly you dance. Shoulders shaking off
The infirmity of life’s toilsome load.
A droning Northern DJ signals
Roger Miller. King of the road.
You waltz your way into eternity.