Nelson
The man who owned the heartache
that lived on the stairs
Passed me in the night whistling 'Memories of You' . . .
I stared, too frightened to move
For fear my eyes shone a light
On the darkness he drew like a cloak
all around his shoulders . . . 
And the church on the corner
marked the time for the mother
Who was giving birth to a child across the hall . . . 
And I waited, half in anger, half in sadness
For an answer to the call for help
I had written on the wall. 
And the rain fell like jewels
on the heads of all the fools
Who wandered crazed with their souls ablaze for me . . . 
And the blessing of the hour
Was the twilight and the tower
With its golden bell from the bottom of the sea . . . 
And the moon through the window of the bedroom
Where lovers slumbered,
Made a silver dance of such dust beneath the bed . . . 
And I waited for a moment in the lamplight,
Crystal gazing,
listening to their hearts
And the changing of their breath.