SEEDS
1
On a Sunday in mid-summer
Right at the edge of the park
You come to me;
Talking future plans,
Shining eyes,
And a heart that dared.
We saw ourselves
Buying a car to travel
Down to the coast
Whenever we took the urge
All planned out under the elm
Of eager spreading roots.
Many seeds scattered
Ideas with wings on the breeze
Hope floating all the way
Towards the sea along winding
Open-windowed roads.
2
Smashed in spring - the last
Season you inhaled;
Lying singing on the back seat.
The front driver’s side was saved,
Letting me drive
To dreams that died.
Dreams have a way
Of coming at you by the front
And leaving by the back door.
I pass it now, the car
In the scrap yard
At the edge of the town
It’s only half now.
