I see you in your coat; I have to have it,
till one day, there’ll be nothing more to own.
Then I will rid myself of everything,
look at the stars from an empty room.
I notice you walk past me again.
It’s easy to see someone is special
if you don’t really know them.
It’s December: the tree’s up,
the lights are on.
Outside, the snow is under my feet,
and on the roofs of cars.
In the morning she bends over
pulls up her stockings;
under the clouds the cold day begins,
and at dusk the pubs open.
The moon is less than half,
shines through the evening.