(for Chris - sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt - there are tears at the heart of life itself)

Certain landscapes remain firm in the mind,

Don't vary much over distance or time,

Reminders, scattered in field, river and sky,

Remnants of lost times gone-by. Friendships

Blossom and die in a day, beneath summer

Skies that we thought would stay;

Skies unpredictable and impressive

Skies billowing, willowing, dramas of cloud and rain.

The horizon piles grey cloud presaging rain,

The sudden gleam of sun streaming through,

As we walk together into an uncertain future:

Silver flash, patch of heavy rain cloud, a shadow,

Passes over us, eases us into an evening sunset

Of deep reds and golds which light up the whole valley;

And a dark remnant of those blue-remembered hills.