Michael Edwards

LOOKING DOWN

 

 

LOOKING DOWN

 

We stood there as sentinels

as we had so many times before,

sharing shadows and looking down.

 

Warm breezes blew

playing tunes through the leaves.

 

My eyes swept the stumbling hills,

and combed the hedge-hemmed fields.

I saw the banks of the silvered river

with its quivering reflections

of the tumbling walls

where my memories began,

where I took my first breath.

 

We stood there as sentinels

reunited after all those years

my friend - the noble oak - and I.