I don’t know how to dress
for this weather;
pouring rain,
then bright bright sun.
I have a carload of sleepers
and five minutes to spare.
We have come to meet a friend
at Attingham, but there is
a tinge of sadness as I wait
because all of these
sixty-somethings
that I see walking around
remind me of my parents.
It is not the sadness of loss
but realising the weight of thankfulness.
A humble hand
holding on to
something it never wants to lose.
#65
elisabeth pike 