Original Text: 
F.R. Scott, F.R. Scott: Selected Poems (Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1966): 163.
1Was is an Is that died
2    in our careless hands
3and would not stay
4    in its niche of time.
5We crumble all our nows
6    into the dust of Was
7not feeling
8    the wind blow with us
9forgetting Was
10    cannot be shaken off
11    follows close behind
12    breathes down our neck
13    guides our reaching hand.
14One day we shall look back
15    into those staring eyes
16and there will be nothing left but
17    Was.
RPO poem Editors: 
Ian Lancashire / Sharine Leung
RPO Edition: 
Special Copyright: 

Copyright © the estate of F. R. Scott. Included
with the generous permission of William Toye, his literary executor.