Although

I know
you’ve gone away;
to say it isn’t so
is lunacy

and although the
going clearly states
your need you didn’t
really have to go

this place is you
unlike each other
place you’ve ever
been could ever be

you are the house
the land, the trees,
the chorus birds who
sing at dawn

you are the greening
lawns, the flowers
whose heady scent
beguiles

all memories of
40 years are here
enshrined in frowns
and smiles

you never really
left you know;
you’re here – although
you’ve gone away...
© 7 December 2008, I. D. Carswell