Friday, March 23, 2012

Indian's Prow

Houghton Reggis chalk quarry

Wrapped in time
and a thin blanket of grass
ragged and aging
you surveyed the valley changes.
Maybe you closed your eyes too soon
or despair became heavy
upon your eyelids
when the developers moved in
with their heavy percussion.
Maybe you prefer to dream
of the might-have-been
and might-yet-be
songs for tomorrow.

For today, while you sleep,
I walk the chalk paths
of my yesterdays
and hear the clanking chains
of the bucket conveyor,
long gone,
spanning time
and the road between.

When your new neighbours
open freshly painted doors
to breathe our air
they will not know
our yesterdays
when we were young
and in our prime.

1 comment:

Brenda said...

Keith thank you. I always find your writing very moving....amazing. Keep it coming. What a wonderful gift. PTL! Brenda Dyson