David Chadwick

Private world

 

I was driving northwards in holiday mode

Window down, radio on a music station

The first day of summer and three days off

The thought filled me with elation

 

But then, as I took a sweeping bend

I saw them beside the road

Huddled mute together

Unmoving, their common grief showed

 

Mother, father, sister I guessed

Grouped around a plain white cross

And a small bunch of flowers

That marked the place and moment of their loss

 

Then they were gone as I carried on driving

That frozen tableau left far behind

New places appeared, new possibilities

And yet the image lingered in my mind

 

No more hope-filled journeys for them

No new days to enjoy and then forget

They remain locked in their private world forever

A day that never ends, a sun that will never set