Absence

Being left to my own devices, after too much unproductive footering I swung my leg over the bike and off I did cycle. Back in time, to where I played as a child. And I stopped to look at the changes, the old mill now a sea of Cala Homes, the riverside cottages bulldozed, the lade drained and empty. But elsewhere it was just as it was back then. And probably as it was sixty years before I was born, but nobody knows those people who looked on the same scene now. Nobody misses them as they go on their way, walking their dogs, running along with their headphones, but they were all here.