clouded distant memories floating through my head.
Each step to the station. Is that walnut tree still there?
I'm not quite certain where I was.
One night in Grosvenor Square.
Was it but a memory? Or, was it just a dream?
Can a truly golden day be somewhere in between?
I felt the earth moving in her silver hair.
My soul stopped in the lost and found:
One night in Grosvenor Square.
Succumbing to emotion, I sat down on the ground.
I could still hear Carole singing through silence all around.
Each stage of life's journey, at turnpikes of despair.
An eagle took my photograph:
One night in Grosvenor Square.
Capability Red 2016
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