Turning up the muddy lane, I catch your eye.
An old friend who hasn’t recognised you. We pause. Maybe you’d forgotten
all the happy times. Maybe I’d changed beyond all recognition. You were
always there for me.
I begin to mouth ‘Hello’ but I’m interrupted by your grace.
A busy north-easterly disturbs the oaks and flings a shower of rooks
upwards into the sky.
I suddenly realise why you haven’t…
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