Link to click to read death poems which are part of the literary writings in the book called THIS IS A PICTURE OF YOUR GOD: A HUGH COOK READER


As I walk around the early-morning city
A car comes at me down the ONLY BUSES lane.
The cafes  are not yet open but I have a flask.
This is the city that I left
Never to return.
With my shrunken brain
Residual with the aftermath of radiation,
I find the present waking to the past.
There are bells and there are birds
As there were in those cities of Europe
In the days when I thought
I made long journeys.
Far shorter, them,
Than the journey I have dedicated now.