It’s been a year,
Since I went walking with you in Scarborough,
I wore a jacket that was black like the night,
In contrast to the waterfront Arcade,
And my shirt and shoes,
Blue like the sea which you and I walked near.
The days were long and fulfilling,
We went up the steep streets
And down, from city to waterfront
I imagine it must have killed you.
Up and down, buying things
Eating sweet things
Drinking coffee which to this day
I have never tasted better.
And I feared the hour of Scarborough’s closing,
Like a murderer fears the gallows.
For when those slow, fat reapers came for us,
I knew my heart would go shallow.
My dearest wish is to return there,
with Grandmother dearest and you.
And once again explore all the joys,
that can be offered by Scarborough,
With you, Grandfather.