brought a swift return to The Roundhouse for Heather and I (having experienced it’s roundness in seeing Ash). This time we were there for something a little different, The Waterboys.
I wrote this while sat outside Ye Arrow when visiting Rochester. It seemed somehow appropriate today.
A weather vane on a still day
Is a ghost of the winds past
Like those lost to the veil
Stilled. Gone. But not forgotten
Happy birthday Pixie.