High Windows

When I see a couple of kids
And guess he's fucking her and she's
Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm,
I know this is paradise

Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives - 
Bonds and gestures pushed to one side 
Like an outdated combine harvester,
And everyone young going down the long slide

To happiness, endlessly. I wonder if 
Anyone looked at me, forty years back,
And thought, That'll be the life,
No God any more, or sweating in the dark

About hell and that, or having to hide 
What you think of the priest    He 
And his lot will all go down the long slide 
Like free bloody birds. And immediately

Rather than words comes the thought of high windows. 
Tire sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows 
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless