Lovers Retreat - Anne Clark

Look at your young faces

They’re growing older with each moment

Harder and less beautiful

With every word we say

Stumbling over bridges

And through the backstreets

Waiting for some thing

But we don’t knoe what

It could be a promise

It could be passion

Eternal life

Or instant death

Wading through rubbish

And dodging choc-a-block cars

Through the door and up the stairs

We’ll find some moments of happiness

Between shets we’ve knownso often

The warmest place in this hostile town

Afterwads, through dust and comfort filled eyes

We can look upwadrs

And almost stare at the stars