Goldfinch60

Memories of Poetry.

I was back with My River,

Walking beside it on this cold drab day,

But it was with me,

Its cloudy green surface looking at me,

Old friends travelling together.

I then saw him sitting on a bench,

A friend from the past

Who I shared memories with,

Memories of poetry.

I sat with him and we talked

Talked of many poets

And the joy they brought us.

I looked across My River

And saw the cemetery,

Saw where he lived

As I remembered the day

When I read for him that time,

That one final time as he was laid to rest

And am so sure that he remembers,

Remembers Adlesdrop.

I still see him

As I walk with My River,

When he joins me in my thoughts.