- peter ford -

MY BROTHER BILL - EPITAPH

Once there grew a sapling, deep in a glade

of willows. Screened and cool in noonday sun,

he lived in a world of vespers and evening shade.

Above the sapling greater willows laid

sheltering boughs in sky-crossed benediction.

Once there grew a sapling deep in a glade

with a young summer stream that chuckled and played

and nursed the green rootweb the sapling had spun.

He lived in a world of vespers and evening shade.

And light from a high moon that sometimes strayed

into the wood where, by a willow run,

once there grew a sapling. Deep in a glade

and greyed by early dawn, his shadow made

a green and darkened image of druid genuflection.

He lived in a world of vespers and evening shade

and most dry death when that chuckling water maid

grew humorless under a brown September sun.

Once there grew a sapling deep in a glade.

He lived in a world of vespers and evening shade.