Two Widows

Two widows walking
Beneath the trees they go among the forest cover
One will always be a year behind the other

Two widows talking
Just as the rain comes in it’s another summer shower
Hand in hand they stand in the dappled dripping bower

No tent or stuff but camping rough
Their friendship and their grief are load enough
To carry on their backs

Two widows walking
It’s raining harder now and the day is bleaker
Press on to leave their grief a little weaker

Two widows talking
Their voices raised for they are lost she has not heard her
The compass spins to loose their grief a little further

It’s not a race but there is grace
As they keep on at the ancient healing pace
From the Severn up to Skye

Two widows walking
The sky is clearing now and the day is brighter
The cloud will lift their grief a little lighter

Two widows talking
Down by the quay they tell their story to the sailor
The sun will bleach their grief a little paler