Have we met, sir? You ask after who I am You are introduced to me as a sailor I am introduced to you as a love poet But I do not write on love I write on the inevitability of death Have we met, sir? You ask after who I am I am atoms bent in the art of impersonation You say all artists are liars -- Actors, writers, music makers I say if they are equivocators My family is undertakers And I write on the inevitability of death Have we met, sir? In the scales in the chimes In the cane cut back From last year's blackberry vines In the mainsail luffing in a red morning sky In the incandescence lost When you close your eyes Do you know your way home by the stars? Do the streetlights pollute where you are? Was it you, sir Stirred hurricane lilies by my bed? Put pennies in my mouth And count each life I have led Is this the bridge that descends into the ocean? Is this the blue I never come back from? Are you the grey eyed one Are you my last companion? There was always something in the snow About you that I wanted Was it I so loved the light when I was the dark Here we meet, sir, here we part