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By Peter McEvoy

One day, should my heart grieve less
I will cross old Durham's bridge
and take the brown, earthen path
beside the quiet river,
green shadowed by the willows
and look again on that weir,
castle and cathedral wall

Upon the wooded slope
I will sit, read the poems
of Rupert Brooke and watch
a soundless eight skim by.

I will walk by the gravestones
of that great ancient church
where in the twilight we stood
in its silence and looked
eye to wondering eye,
touched hands as we came close
and I, not daring for fear
I broke the loveliness
of that moment in the dusk
felt your lips on mine,
wine to my thirst,
unknowing then that
love held future sorrow.

Should my heart grieve less,
I will take the earthen path
beside the quiet river
green shadowed by the willows
and remember you.



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