Step from the George, out in the night,
with midnight drizzle in the air,
no car, no person, come to sight,
a bird takes off to see me there:
each street and building has a name
but shadows turn them into one,
they darkly glower I’m to blame
but black they look without day’s sun,
while moonlight has been sacrificed
by gloomy clouds and rainy veil,
the shine of street lights just sufficed
to hint at pavements for my trail.
The buildings from across the road
suppressed are by the larger rooves,
while smaller ones lie in their shade
and more are crushed in alley grooves:
a silence heavy is disturbed
by constant tumbles of the Usk,
the churning waters kept perturbed,
white swirling waves in midnight dusk:
cathedral and the castle towers
hang black and sombre in the clouds,
the barrack walls speak other powers,
that strength, not faith, brings blood its shrouds;
my presence found the main road lies
with empty bus stops, journey done:
the rain’s now heavy from the skies
on world asleep and day hours shun:
my coat’s grown wet, my spirit damp,
around a bend my footsteps forge
down terraced street, no light of lamp,
to where waits bed in Hotel George.
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