The view from this side is better. A rarefied air talking of memories that belong to no one. One car drove the lane up to the border and everyone got out. A boy and girl child stood tip-toed to see over the wooden fence into the stained glass fields iridescent in perpetual sun. Here it existed with absent father mother in a band of monochrome; the lives of other people so fascinating.
Ancient people laid down dazzling tessellation for the future to postcard.
Like high up from a plane the intricacies of countryside.
Colours swam in and around objects too numerous to list. Focus on one and it disappeared into another. Hopes and achievements skipped gaily through the spectral meadows but were tripped so callously by fears and tainted thought.
The boygirl perched precarious on a stile,
transfixed by all that unravelled.Father mother sat disinterested on the border of dark and light in order to play cards. Here the lane was bisected, two equal halves stretched out all around and meeting once again.
Now the boygirl suffered much anxiety as great grey monoliths came crashing onto the field patterns. An imposing court of carved opportunities (missed and taken) spread out in a circle.
Infinity lay silent. Eternity watched through a mirror.
The boygirl felt the eyes of all the quarrelling heads and some innate urge pulled from within. Here with trepidation steps on the delicate ground; a walk to the centre.
Prepared perhaps for judgement.