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Poem

on my six

 the village faded in my past
when at last i walked through the gate 
for the final time
neither of us remained the same
as we were in the days of my coming of age
back then the colours were brighter
our laughter was lighter

with all my possessions on my back
in my Dad's old navy pack 
i paused at the end of the road by the wall
which today is not so tall
as it was then

i stared at the old rough stones
long ago discoloured and beaten
by wind and rain

to the left the bend curved right
and out of my sight
a couple hundred yards down
where when we were all young
we sneaked a peek when
colin flarety was "courting"
the miller twins from across the field

to the right straight and true
narrowing down to a pin point in the far distance
shadowed by the morning mist
that hung heavy
after the night's storm

hefting my Dad's sea bag
i headed left
maybe just to see if anything had changed.

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