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.