Darkening Sorrow

Darkening Sorrow It was a strange summer I wouldn’t say reluctant But rather old fashioned, rather like an old man Crossing the farm yard with a slice of bread in his Hand to give to the horse by the wooden fence. It was not a summer that will be remembered by Bathers by the beach, the sea was cold that year Often there were bands of cerulean silk scarves On the sky keeping the day from being too hot. We walked everyday although our walks became Shorter and we didn’t go to the river as usual. You had gone in September and I had got a buyer For the house, alone it was pointless living there. I will be moving into an idyllic home for the aged, And from the window see your resting place.