The Silent Lane

by Rani Turton



My eyes on that door, the silent lane beckons My fingers scrape that door Nobody opens it any more My eyes brimming, the silent lane beckons Memories flow; how many have walked these old streets And how many do not any more? From the inner world of my own inner world Come the answers of despair Come the images of you there Sunlight and silence, people pass me by In the cavern of the past, some of this will remain The present is now free from pain.

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