Beside the barn a hothouse glass
flashes, and across the grass
green water sparkles in the pool.
And at a tree where I sit cool,
the boughs above me softly creak
and whisper as old memories speak.
Grey visions swim with things undone;
and resolutions, one by one,
crowd my conscience, long disowned;
and scenes forgotten, fears postponed,
return as if they were today
- and stronger in a curious way.