Alone, at Durham


Comes a horseman, in Winter,
To the greatest cathedral north of the Alps;
It is the end of an old tale.

Bespectacled, with grey hears,
In the mirror I view his face;
He once sent his voice around the world.

All he has now is pen, paper and the memory,
The distant tide of faith fast receding;
Snow, ice and the mad mists beckon.

Came a horseman, in Summer,
From the morning to the citadel;
The days of honey licking the silver tongue.

'Love is a vapour, we're soon through it.'
Uncle Basil had no more success than I;
I tilted my head at all the rainbows.

Comes a horseman, in Winter,
By Heighington village to the Raby Hunt Inn;
Thru fog, ice and snow to a welcoming fire.
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