What Head of Hero That Did Not Roll

In retrospect, for the US SS Times when the winds howl and chase ships home to brood there are no fish in the water that did not tremble too. In the nude of the dawn and at the trembling of the day a rapturous melancholic wonder holds you at bay. Then the meal that’s stripped in form is in remote mood sliced and you did not know if your hand you cut for cake nor did you think it could… In such times too in the teeming thought of the town think you : with all eyes chasing you down the street you draw up at red and stretch out when green did not do it did not will it but you did it all the same why you couldn’t think of blame yet all the company followed you way from vacant luminous glares of gathering traffic throbbing by but then even in red wheels roll and what head of hero did not roll… You have talked to her out of sight in the placid coolness of the night you had never thought this could bite and despite old odourless days winds will rush in spite for even in red wheels roll… and what head of hero will not roll © T. Wignesan, 1955 - London (from the collection: tell them i'm gone, 1983)