Summer Loss

Sunshine smelled of coconut,
blackcaps sang like larks.
You took my hand and lead me
across trampolining grass
through a prickly gorse bush tunnel
onto a speedwell lawn.
The place became our hideaway
for afternoons of love
the whole of that hot summer
that stretched into eternity.

Last time I walked that way alone
black charred remains
were all I saw
of gorse.

**

Reposting from 2006, as it seems appropriate given all the moorland fires there have been recently

Meanwhile I've posted another poem on my Shapeshifting Green blog, you can read it here.