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.