A lifetime in the building industry and with hands as hard as ebony dad took hold of me and we walked upstream to catch our tea. Fish we caught a plenty quite illegally but such a lovely tea they made. and mum made tomato chutney for salads a ballad of our days plays out frequently in a memory by the river.
Now it's gone into a more modern time no weirs to walk across no islands where we swam too just a rushing torrent tormenting me a misery for all to see and we used to have such good fun there.
Dad's gone too sometime back in eighty two and the river stays plays again rewinding binding me to the past. Nothing lasts for long except those snapshots of have and haven't gots and I had lots of both.