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Well do I remember the times that I have had
Spending sunny summer days sitting in this spot.
A blanket beneath me, at once my seat and my table.
No more.

I need the comfort of a chair now.
I suppose that this one, with its clip-on tray,
Looks for all the world like something
For an oversized baby. Full circle.

Once I ate to the music of Linnets,
Willow Warblers, percussion by feeding ducks.
Now I have only cacophony offered
By radios carried by strutting young bucks.

This is the first time I’ve eaten in this spot
In, oh, must be all of twenty-odd years.
The first time since you left, so frail at the end.
I shall not come again.
These are the last of my tears.