Her headphones,
A relic of the analogue age,
Create her mini world around her
As she
Autistically repeats the same phrase
Five hundred times on the piano's
Aching keys.

It didn't save last night.
Logic. Look it's gone.
Such a lot of stuff.
What was the point of all that then?
Are you sure you don't know how?

And the trains rumble past,
And the Shard keeps reaching up,
And the clouds keep keeping out
The sun from peeking through
From time to time -

And summer will PASS. US.  BY.
Quicker than the last time.
And we will wonder
With less surprise than last time.