With the child he watches
The water and the arches of the bridge.
Before him just the streets of
The town, worn reflection in the
Stream, dream that lapsed.
Walking across the squares, through the
Seasons. Autumn drenched in rain
And the sad eyes of churches. The old
Stones give comfort in this the last
Of months, when the water whirls
Wildly and the wind drives.
Down wintry steps you descend
To the river, the child lost
Behind words. Hidden in
'Sea Memory', your face and
Dusk on the embankment. My hand
Writes on the water: departure is
Waiting for a return, always it is
Getting later. A final look, the town
Shines in the rain. I embark in
The evening light. Vanish on the
Stream, repeating the question
When will I meet you again?
