When streets are sensuous
dances are held
lit by the recollections
of his day

The waters at Coate reflected the last light of the day but searched in vain for the spring stars

I had travelled from Bath and when passing Liddington Hill I was much impressed by the swept snow that covered the summit. It contrasted greatly with the rigid grey sky of that icy evening. He stood on a gentler slope to the west of the hill with his arms outstretched willing the snow to return.

He declined my greeting

This was his humour