Stamped Stark br Above the softly shuttered town br Sharp square br Upon the bare blue sky br A shadow on the writhing stream below br Slow winding cool br About the ancient bridge br As if no memory held br The anger of a flood. br br So, too, the still baked stone br Loose-filled to form the curtain round the wall br The caverned road br Steep churning soundless through the past br A bruise-washed path br Tight-driven underfoot br ‘Neath spans of gates now gone br By doors immured br Once windows, lost br br The Donjon rides br br (sword-bright br the spikes of oleander) br br Strides br br (the pomegranate petals fallen trail br like drops br of blood) .