North I was born facing north Appeared with the morning dew Summer retreating Innocence fleeting If ever a north were true North Where the light is sparse The sun has other things to do A photograph Through broken glass Is all I have of you North Fading like anger Bearings remotely askew The landscape takes A different shape I wonder if it knew I wonder if it knew
North
My first home lay on the north edge of town and it crops up frequently in my songs. The title is also a nod further northward towards Scotland where I live now. This is a jazz-infused swirl of images from my childhood and teenage years.