1185

Groombridge Place

I'd scanned the photographs

Deleted the dull or blurred

And those already lost to memory

But even then the ones I thought I'd keep

Did not beg for comment -

Even the casual lines

My mother used to write upon her snaps -

The endless views of summer flower beds

And country houses visited by us.

It isn't that I can't;

It's that the urge, the urgency,

The fire is not there;

And all the beauties of this summer's day

Are lost when thought, unfocussed, goes astray.

Brian Hick July 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 14.6.24