Soho square 1967, people eating their sandwiches. ‘Hello’ in the air as ordinary as the wind.
I don’t know why that day sticks in my mind, maybe it was an England at peace with itself?
Whatever was there that day as summer turned to autumn, it spoke of days and eternities, something in the mind of God, kept special.
A sky seemed to walk the world we knew back then, in pastel ways of wonder.
And now I let days go by with the indifference of a sleeping dog, moon after lazy moon.
I see miles of church aisles and an evensong heaven in praise of English summer days, and,
I wait for the ‘Hello’ Will it ever come again?