MS-UoR-1477-7

[0015] that time you went back that last time to look was the ruin still
there where you hid as a child when was that (eyes close) grey
day took the eleven to the end of the line and on from there no
no trams then all gone along ago that time you went back to look
was the ruin still there where you hid as a child ^{that last time} not a tram left
in the place only the old rails when was that

[0016] when you went in out of the rain always winter then always raining
that time in the Portrait Gallery in off the street out of the cold
and rain slipped in when no one was looking and through the rooms
shivering and dripping till you found a seat marble slab and sat
down to rest and dry off and on to hell out of there when was that

[0017] on the stone together in the sun on the stone at the edge of the
little wood and as far as eye could see the wheat turning yellow
vowing every now and then you loved each other just a murmur not
touching or anything of that nature you one end of the stone she
the other long low stone like millstone no looks just there to-
gether on the stone in the sun with the little wood behind gazing
at the wheat or eyes closed all still no sign of life not a soul
abroad no sound

[0018] straight off the ferry and up with the nightbag to the high street
neither right nor left not a curse for the old scenes the old names
straight up the rise from the wharf to the high street and there not
a wire to be seen only the old rails all rust when was that was your
mother still ah for God's sake all gone long ago that time you went
back ^{that last time} to look was the ruine still there where you hid as a child
someone's folly

[0019] was your mother still ah for God's sake all gone long ago all dust
the lot you the last huddled up on the slab in the old green great-
coat with your arms round you whose else hugging u^you for a bit of
warmth to dry off and on to hell out of there and on to the next
not a living soul in the place only yourself and the odd attendant
drowsing around in his felt shufflers not a sound to be heard only
every now and then a shuffle of felt drawing near then dying away

[0020] all still just the leaves and ears and you too still on the stone
in a j^kind of daze ^{no sound} not a word only every now and then to vow you
loved each other just a murmur one thing could ever n^bring tears
till they dried up altogether that thought when it came up among
the others floated up that scene