The journey seems to take almost forever
despite the fast-flowing currents of the water
from Wetheral, to Park Broom down the river
where, in your wake, wandering, walks a daughter
trying to piece the afterlife together
from Wetheral, to Park Broom down the river.
Thirty-three years is long enough to wonder
about the current which carried you under
Broomy Hill to Park Broom down the river:
Follow the trail, then stop a while and ponder
the hills beyond, which stood beneath the thunder
the day they found you, lying in the water.
And I would plunge my hands, right then and there
into the bright, flowing darkness of the river
to piece your broken body back together.
R.I.P. Elizabeth Stakle (neé Wilson) 24.03.58-04.10.90