Clouds

in London
eclipse the eclipse,
over Ebbsfleet
desaturate the waiting room,
in Lille
turn the glass roof pewter,
in Brussels
I don't know; I am in a tunnel, running,
in Liege
fall, engrot the industry,
beyond
slump low over fields
damping the turbine blades
shrouding the power plants,
in Bonn
at last
lift
expose the exhausted sun.



Black and white in colour 56