[00:04.82] |
Sunday at six when they close both the gates |
[00:10.61] |
a widowed pair, |
[00:13.18] |
still sitting there, |
[00:16.23] |
Wonder if they're late for church |
[00:19.88] |
and it's cold, so they fasten their coats |
[00:24.71] |
and cross the grass, they're always last. |
[00:32.37] |
Passing by the padlocked swings, |
[00:35.58] |
the roundabout still turning, |
[00:38.78] |
ahead they see a small girl |
[00:41.92] |
on her way home with a pram. |
[00:52.11] |
Inside the archway, |
[00:54.77] |
the priest greets them with a courteous nod. |
[01:01.27] |
He's close to God. |
[01:03.70] |
Looking back at days of four instead of two. |
[01:09.60] |
Years seem so few (four instead of two). |
[01:12.10] |
Heads bent in prayer |
[01:15.47] |
for friends not there. |
[01:20.08] |
Leaving twopence on the plate, |
[01:23.34] |
they hurry down the path and through the gate |
[01:27.62] |
and wait to board the bus |
[01:30.06] |
that ambles down the street. |