Everybody has got memories
But I couldn’t remember anything
Remembering is painful,
Hard as the clear blue sky under which I lay for three hours.

My memory is white as snow and fuzzy
The snow seeped into my clothes
As I looked up at that hard, clear, blue sky
From the bottom of the foul smelling muddy ditch.

I had been hit and had fallen into the ditch
My body bumped from the saline green verge
Into the putrefactious pit.

The hedgerow was bare except for some berries
It was a criss-cross of prickly branches,
The thorns clearly visible like spiky railings
Further along grew an enormous pendunculate oak
Black birds perched ominously on the oak.

The only sound was the rushing traffic going south,
A monotonous noise that the bare hedge could not muffle
The cars were piled up on the main northbound road
And the radio and the heater were the only companions
That had kept us warm.