I hall lie hidden in a hut
In the middle of an alder wood
With the back door blind and bolted shut
And the front door locked for good.
I shall lie folded like a saint
Lapped in a scented linen sheet
On a bedstead striped with bright blue paint
Narrow and cold and neat
The midnight will be glassy black
Behind the panes with wind about
To set his mouth against a crack
And blow the candle out.
Gone from this earth but never forgotten.