Memory like a lost gull
faces dejection
In the autumn of his mind
faces absorption
with the now

No walks down the blue river
He waits for evening
in his solitary room

O lonely man
drunk with knowing disdain
His knowing memories
senses his ancestral farm
and thoughts of his Mother, Margaret

There is the stillness of darkness
There is no guilt
Thoughts of death
will not encounter him
His soul at peace