Pierce Turner
The autumn evenings filled with copper shades
I see the birds’ neck in the frame
A figure walks into the sunset
Someone goes past suspended from the sky
Takes more imagination
When everything’s remote control
For me it’s just a case of
What’s on the far side of the road
Tell everybody
I’m going away for ten years
I’m going to wander
Among the Wicklow hills
The travelling children in their Sunday clothes
Lost on the corner of the Street
Fat gypsy lady smacks the windowpane
A farm dog gets out on the motorway
Takes more imagination
When everything’s remote control
For me it’s just a case of
What’s on the far side of the road
Tell everybody
I’m going away for ten years
I’m going to wander
Among the Wicklow hills
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