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Poem	Pulled from a life some leaves in evergreen Or dressed like fragrant crinoline draped Over shadows by di Chirico, stolen From a station where trains never run And set up in a tableau in the parsonage at Haworth The three sisters with Chekovian overtones Stood round the table where their mirrored forms Await the blast of the last judgement’s call to make them Take that final walk across the heather mantled moor. Down vain corridors I searched for some leaf token Of a life unlived, a faded mignonette or four leaved clover Down a pathway closed forever by the twists of fate: The shadows of you gone still took the night And I was left alone to face the painful light.
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