The people we remember as we get older, seem to still be so close.
A poem written of a friend from sometime ago, not from Australia, but a little to the South-East. Anyway, here is “Solid time”.
To walk across the rolling grass,
the forests and the rivers pass.
Places gone and stories told,
maybe just a faded moment sold.
I knew you once, it seems so long ago,
the life while living, way up in the snow.
Living now, with not a postcard thought,
in our small shelter, where trees held court.
But the salt water, it now calls your name,
you left our shelter, to find your peoples pain.
Where it takes my love, now lives so far away,
but I know some day, I will find that place to stay.
Break across shoulders, the waves out west,
still for the moment, now a time for rest.
Here for now, sold time does not exist,
the stars and seasons they still resist.
They tell their story, of her peoples past,
the past and future moments, so not last
Her now long faded image, it still walks in my head,
where the beating of her heart, rests against my chest.