A reflection across the generations.
Tavistock Square Garden
Why do I weep as I enter this place?
Is it the autumn sun between the trees
Casting light and shadow across my face,
Making my eyes smart in the sudden breeze?
Or is it the odour of fallen leaves
That, wakening a wistful childhood dream
Of walking hand in hand with father, weaves
Past memories into a richer seam
Of the anxious present? Images crowd
Upon me, peopling wide the empty lawn:
A child scampering up to parents, proud
To defy with his joy the chilly morn.
Images fade; the trees sentinals spare;
Waiting for my son in Tavistock Square.
Copyright © Matthew Harrison, 2009