You staged your death some thirty years away
From here; returning now you're forcing me
To compensate for my refusal to see
Your corpse on your Welsh funeral day.
Haunted by what you did I have to try
To recreate your body hanging in
That empty room and wonder if the sin
Was yours or ours that brought you there to die?
And wonder too just what was going through your mind
Accumulating three things for your plot —
The rope and hook and standing point — groping to find
A beam and learning to tie the hangman's knot.
None of this would undermine your demands,
As you were known for being good with your hands.