Alicia

Who do I want to be, Rab or Phillip or Elaine, Seamus or Frankie, if I let them stay, to warm the ashtrays, around my fire, will they go on their way, then I realise, with the crackle of leaves, listen how they, talk beneath September trees, about being free, running with the sea, splashing in the spray, from the Atlas breeze, to the great bulging Cape, mighty rivers unleash, tears across my face, i'm telling you baby, you're a fool to go away, the cafe'where i keep, guard to burn the flame. a leather glove you had nowhere to go the year of the blow the year Lady died, set the doves free, the colour of the need