Persephone on Watersloot

Dream was neater
In the winter
Divided by the iced canals,
We heard the squeal
Of freight-train wheels
And hourly chimes of steeple bells.
I wanted you,
I called to you
To bring the storm that lovers do,
The pupil's calm
In the eye of storm
Was dilated just for you.
Season's factories
Defeat our victories,
Bringing failures in their turn,
The flower tries
To return what dies
To the flame in which we all must burn.