Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
The air is grey but the temperature’s warm
Late afternoon in an old Kent town
My mood is neutral, kind of brown...
Across the view the long wall stretches
Dark, but topped with lonely snow
Stark branches grasp a sky that’s low...
