uncle pat

i sent off this morning

down the road along the river

which i take but once a year

my walk will take me by the shore

then inland for a mile or more

from the cold sea spray

a small wood stands upon the hill

an old house near it lies in ruins

forgotten long ago

and here in a clearing

overgrown with moss and ivy

is your lovely grave

a dusk i will make my way

along the lanes and through the fields

to where my cottage is

but before i step inside for bed

i'll look up at the stars as we had

all those years ago

so here's for uncle pat