Butterflies with gilded wings this morning Touched the red sun and the rain On the bridge, the workers pass in threes and fours and fives To my sleeplessness Reflections after Jane How I long to live inside a window By the sighing motorway Feel the city searching for my loneliness In all the dust and glass Reflections after Jane And I see her all on a golden Sunday With her hair so dark in the rain Who is in the newspapers this month or week or year My silent friend I can starve my life into a deeper sleep Remembering Reflections after Jane