Literature
The Picnic
I stand on the hill, watching.
A little below, close to the trees, the friends are starting to arrive.
Everyone knows this place – we have all walked here so many times.
Then we had no other plans than to walk and explore. We had energy to burn.
Now a picnic would be fun. Some hours in the sun, some sandwiches, salad, some drinks.
Maybe there will be some news to share; families, sadness and joy, everyday things.
It’s almost half a century since we were all last here.
The skyline has changed, I prefer it as it was before.
Now there are many more “tourists”.
We have changed too. Some more mellow, some less so. Many reas