Where are you?

Where are you? I think of you in that damp garden
Secluded by sandstone wall in suburban lane,
Or in the park with the purple rhododendrons
Reflected in the lake 'neath the plopping rain.

We that were students once are long dispersed now.
Maybe I could have stayed with you, not gone,
But, south of the cantilever bridge, the image
Of my parents, ailing, lonely, called me home.

Remember the ferries and tugs on the windy river,
With the predatory pigeons perching by?
Then back through the crowds with the strange, beloved accent,
Through mucky, scruffy streets walked you and I.

You hoped the freedom and fun would last forever.
I gained a house, a job, a man, a son.
Thirty-five years, it seems, have passed like a moment.
And now you're gone.