Looking Up
We
waited for you to come and join us on the lawn
The
tea cooling in the pot
And
David said he thought he’d seen you
Climbing
the back stair-case
Not
long before we had come out
And
mother made some remark about the wayward rambling roses
Casting
gloomy shadows over the dining-room windows
Pattering
against the glass, making it seem so much darker
They
needed severely cutting back
And
she would speak to Jenson
When
next she saw him
Then
David said suddenly that he could see you at last
And
we turned around to look
The
chairs creaking gently
And
spotted you high above the gallery, walking towards the round tower
Patterned
by its cloaking ivy-tendrils climbing
And
the white signals of your dress
Flashed
between the crenellations of sandy-coloured stone
And
so we called out to you and waved hello
The
house was looking at its best
Hazel-growth
softening the harsher edges
And
we admired the summer blooms
The
grass yielding springy under our feet
And
we called out to you again
While
David talked about the wedding
Busy
with arrangements
His
face shining with happiness
We
must have looked so small to you
Dolls
or puppets on the lawn acting out some domestic scene
Within
the grand setting
As
you regarded us below
From
your parapet-high vantage-point
Staring
down at us from above
And
the breeze caught your hair, made it float serene
Your
eyes calm and steady as if taking in the view
Your
face cool-composed, your arms held high aloft
A
mumbled prayer perhaps at the very moment
When
we all looked up once more
And
watched you step out
Into
thin air
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