WHEN along the pavement,
Palpitating flames of
life,
People flicker
round me,
I forget
my bereavement,
The
gap in the great constellation,
The place where a star used to
be.
Nay, though the
pole-star
Is blown
out like a candle,
And all the heavens are wandering in disarray,
Yet when pleiads of people
are
Deployed around
me, and I see
The
street’s long outstretched Milky Way,
When people flicker down the
pavement,
I forget
my bereavement.