Katy

In the spring light, I open the door, look for the other side, it's cold for the season, sons and daughters, look to their freedom, out on the Neap tide, it’s illusory of course, they ask me why, I’ve brought them to see, sunshine over the port, where we used to live, without a dime, as if we’d been caught, in some policy drive, they believe, i’m joking that’s all, just a conspiracy, but each walk of life, ends overwrought, maybe only strife, tells us the score.