Where were we where the twisted trees
Arched open, and we were in the light,
Suddenly, blinking? It must have been afternoon
And it was Italy because the pillars
Led down to an archway, framing a statue.
The shadows were so sharp edged
And the sun was like a great bright weight.
I don’t know why it came back, it wasn’t important.
We go through life alone
And memory is fragile and crumbles
Like pine must underfoot
Like the smell of pines and hot dust
On that afternoon long ago. Where was it?
Was it you who was with me? Do you remember?
25th September 2017
