If a City is set upon a Hill
Under the flight of birds
Over on the Downs
And the flight of BirdSong
If under the Golden Calf
Dozing buried under
The grass and moss
In the sweet shadow
Of that Hill
If the middle of the well
Is a ring of gold
Down the passed path
And long along the way
Is a City
And if that city holds a Man
And in that Man is a City
On the heights of all the Planets
That have uprised
And upset the Stars
And in that Woman
Who circles that City
Her masks trace Silver
Under her Feet
If the City street is silent
And mute dogs surround
The Woman who circles the City
In the Field she lies
And over her Bed
Shakes beyond the daisies
Of the City wall
Beyond past the Flowers
That flow like Queens
Into the City set upon a Height
The pitch forks by home
In the throat of the Corn
His eyes the colours
Of clouds of nights
Before the SunFlowers
Drowned by those Suns
If by those Flowers
The City is unwell
I am still there
Inside You like a City
And if the City gate is shut
In the day and not the night
If the PeaCock is banished
And burns with a song
If under God's wing
By the JawBone and HeeHaw
The donkey creeps silently
Through the door in the hall
Then plague and mice
And the WoodLice stream