there's small grass on the hill-side

and many abandoned orchards in the valley

the wake of time rolls out behind each traveller in an oily V
Good morning, you're feeling full of advantages,

at speed, our wishes populate the echoing room

sunlight floods the market-place, for a while

but we actually live sometime in the near future

selfishly, which keeps being brought home to us
slow code sounds through the concourse at night

representations are seductive, like tomorrow's interview

or a being from another orbit of existence, leaving us in peace.

There's also mist in the hawthorn hedges, now that you can see

the peninsula might be where you end up, like a jig-saw piece

over the Sympathy Hills, looking down on Impression Bay