On Friday mornings
       I visit the willows
in the park
       They’ve been a presence
in my life for as long
       as I can remember
that is to say
       I’ve known them longer
than most of the people
       that I now know

Love has come and gone
       and come and gone again
but the willows remain
       A small stream runs
through the park
       and often as a child
I would stand
       on the narrow bridge
and watch the water flow
       over the gentle weir
and sometimes
       with a glass jar in hand
I would fish for tadpoles
       and proudly carry them home

And sometimes now I think
       of all the different bridges
I’ve crossed in my life and
       all the rivers I’ve gazed into
sometimes accompanied
       sometimes alone
and I remember so much
       and regret nothing

John Lyons