The Wooden Bench

With blue checked shirt and smiling eyes,
You made the wooden bench under the ivy.

That golden band glinted on your hand,
Which was rough as the wood that you planed.

I danced around the garden, all blue sundress and chubby legs,
Catching the woodlice and trying to feed them to the dog.

And I remember you laughing as you distracted me with milkshake,
As we faded away into earth and wood smoke.
Lost in the eternal early autumn of that valley.