Dreaming Spires

Sleep-walking, last night, retraced
my steps to Oxford. Weary
from interview at St Catherine's
I stood, waiting at the crossing
near Worcester College,

standing, watching for a green man,
smiling, satisfied,
my parents beside me. 'If I get a place
I might spend half my college life
waiting for these lights.'

So distant now.
Filed in the vault of memory,
attracting dust, I'm losing
exactly how the crossing was set out.
Waiting there is all I muse on now.