Boy in Green Beret
The warehouse on the wharf
where we used to take our stroll
long-since burned down.
In its place, a trendy restaurant
come café, but the city walls survive
and the path we walked by the Dee
hasn’t changed. On its banks,
silver-birch, ash, horse-chestnut trees
still thrive – etched in charcoal
on a water-colour sky. And the clock
on the church strikes every quarter
and each hour, as it always did.
I throw a pebble in the river, but
unlike you, I can’t make it skim
and in the field, where the cows
used to be – brand new apartments;
windows glint – catch my eye.
As did your smile, the last time
I saw you...in that uniform, so smart;
cap in hand, swinging on the gate
as you opened it for me. Yet today,
I toss our dreams to the wind...
and watch your green beret
float on down to the sea.