Absence

I wait in the hall.
I listen in the hall
To the voice in my imagination.
I wait for the violence to die.
I wait to die with it.

There are only walls in my mind;
The rest is the wind in the hall.
I hear the scraping of shingles on the roof.

Walking is slow, silent.

I hear her voice in the margin of the day.
She is speaking me,
But I find I cannot find a direction.

Shadows reaching from building to
Outside to inside,
Cold and warm...
Absence as venue and view.
The title comes after the event.

hail to thee, thane of corridor

aiy...we'll wink in Anglo-Saxon.