Long Ago Love.

The lane is empty 

of her now. 

Little traffic passes by 

on the country lane. 

Birds sing, 

fly over 

and into hedgerows. 

The sound of a tractor 

from some field, 

not near. 

The water tower 

is still there. 

The farm has got bigger 

and I hear cows from there. 

I used to go there 

twice a day as a boy 

to fetch milk 

in a green jug. 

The cottage we lived in 

has some others there now, 

no longer part 

of a tied dwelling, 

but bought. 

I used to wait for her here, 

look up the lane to see 

if she was coming. 

She no longer will come. 

The sky is bright. 

The sun is warm. 

I could wait here for eternity, 

but she will not come again. 

Now the sky has darkened. 

It looks like rain.