(SHADOW WALTZING, 1982)

TODAY I FELT SO SADDENED BY WORDS I SAY

whinging how hard my life has made my bed

I took off to the graveyard, alone at close of day

to get things clear, just what it is to be Dead

I walk and think; chill and dusk creep and grow

not keen to leave I hover by the gate

anxious to see if hair-befallen snow

will melt or stay that way, I peer and wait

“Hey mister, lock-up time”, the gravedigger is there,

“even the dead want sleep, off home with you!”

meekly I turn, but where, good lord, to where?!

I head back to the graveyard avenue