An April Day of a later year:
The Church lies hidden behind a tree.
Yet, to the left of it;
Concealed by a block structure
no longer;
Rise the Saffron and Snow Tower,
The brown Tower of the old hospital to
the left again;
The trees of the park that lap its western
bounds;
And west and
north again,
Where earth and sky meet:
A tower block in the land of
Sefton.
The view of my dreams has returned
threefold.