Nicoletta

and realising her surname
descended from Priam
daughter of falling Troy, and the shadows of Hackney
swinging like black fire

or blasted sculptures; flickering / 'Hackney' I wrote on the board
'golden slope': warming to my theme
on crash-sites of kingdoms; chaotic,
and sweeping with broom

by river leaks and chemistry sets
in the heavy flaking basements
I could still feel the blue air
buried in the sky above
intense and lingering,

yes and the granddaughters,
smiling life connected, knowing nothing of the crush
but those falling black shadows,

and being something less than a guest
(their young, long-haired fathers
born free of that baggage,

the youngest sons of Priam
who had known no fighting,
who had been kept from the war in Thrake,)

leaving unnoticed
five hundred talking/
still a stranger to their happiness,
that was my feeling.