One Sunday 1962 Poem by Terry Collett

We came out
of the small door
at the back
of the church

after the Sunday service
in which we sang
in choir
and stood looking

at the gravestones
spread around us
going back
to the river

I guess
we'll end up here
one day
Yehudit said

here amongst the dead
mournful aren't we?
I said
we're only young

not fifteen yet
and here you are
talking about
being here

we walked on
along the path
beside the church
but it's true though

we will one day
she said
one day maybe
I said

but why worry
about it now?
I'm not worried about it
just saying

she said
anyway the news
of Mr M's wife
drowning herself

in the park pond
brings it home
just how fragile
we are

we walked on
past more gravestones
some names
wearing away

with time and age
yes that was
a bit of a shock
sad when people

get to that stage
and feel the need
to end it all
I said

Yehudit's sister
passed us by
with a friend
walking faster

Yehudit held my hand
I sensed the hand there
feeling the warmth
her finger wrapping

themselves about mine
but we must focus
on living
she said

us here now
holding hands
being here
on a bright morning

not about death
or dying
we walked along
the lane away

from the church
between hedgerows
at the side
to avoid

passing cars and bikes
I'll see you
this afternoon
if I can get away

Yehudit said
if Mum doesn't want
this or that done
we walked on

she thinking about
Mr M's wife's death
and I thinking
of the afternoon

by the pond
and a kiss or two
and whatever else
young people may do.