Tredington in July

The couple walked
as though unseen
on barbered green
in Tredington.

The couple talked
as though unheard,
and nothing stirred
in Tredington.

The couple gazed
at small neat
clustered cottages, and flowers
bright but dazed
by summer’s heat.

The couple strolled
as though the hours
had rolled
away in Tredington.

Their hands not held,
yet joined at heart,
the couple looked
as though a part
of Tredington,
for all the world
as though in love.
With Tredington.

And then the couple looked
as if to leave,
as if they knew that what had started
when they stopped in Tredington
could not just be ended,
that the memory must for ever stay suspended
on velvet lawns in Tredington.

And then the couple parted.