Ones Asleep (for Sadie Tyrer)

in the dim café
a cup of sand in the dark
nobody watches

one Summer Sunday
from the window by the door
the floor shines with light

father Thomas died
while casting for clues in books
no-one mourned for him

from a cracked mirror
a man in fragments gurns back
his face pale and ill

the foot of Bleaklow
a book's leaves blow in the wind
its language unknown

a lonely July
everyone is somewhere else
the cadence misplaced

an old fishing pole
that once belonged to a child
a child now missing