Lately I've looked at the moon
Through the dim window-glass
of this old cellar room

And winter has come since we last talked

Fog's rolling in on the river walk

And the noise from the motorway stays
the night through

When the working day's over
there's not a lot that I can do

So I write you these poems & make silly rhymes

And watch the clouds go drifting by

And when twilight comes I sometimes go for a walk

The wind is in the branches & the frost is in the bark

Of the Winter Street trees

as they reach for a pale sky

You can almost hear them sigh

And I bet you've been wondering
just what I've become

Now you know I'm still right here
where the story once began

And writing you name on this steamy window glass

As the moon above the cellar is rising at last