I haven’t seen a mole for years, or a lugworm

Not heard the creeping still of night,

Or felt the Diamond Cold of Sea

I’m certain those creatures still exist

And Seas are Sharp as ever were,

It seems I am becalmed adrift

I hear the wind out where I am

I feel the Sun it’s warmth and shade,

I see faces wither cruelly, Loved, Unloved

I haven’t truly shed a tear beyond my own regret,

And yet I sense I once knew love

Or maybe I forget.