Late Harvest in Progress
I remember her tasting
of hand-worn
and warmed pennies ..
Looking like
late autumn sunshine
and carrying
the scent of old apples
all about her ..
Indeed, it seemed to me
then, she may
well have overwintered
and spoke not as
an old lover, but a friend ..
I also seem
to recall her once saying ..
Dear Neville,
don’t you ever dare fall
in love with me,
so of course, that’s exactly
what I then,
in my youth proceeded to do ..