On the wall the outside tap drips a steady rhythm down the drain
On the roof top a solitary seagull lands
It ruffles its undercarriage, bows its head and screeches "I am here!"
The tired blossoms on the plum tree wait patiently
For how else should they be?
The grass grows on, but no matter how I stare I cannot see it
In the window a heart shaped crystal hangs blindly on a cotton thread
No sun today to light its fire
Grey is the sky on this grey of all days
The waxing moon so nearly full behind its cloak of clouds, steals our energy like a thief
And I leave the window as the church clock strikes the 3 3 3 9, and light a candle for Peace