Ully

Do you walk unknown, beneath cool evening trees, as if no one ever knows, remembering those photos, of all your family, gone away now wind blown, from dusty fields unsown, dancing in the breeze, shadows from places cold, down our street and town, that one's of your niece, Mother wears a black shawl, looked after time shorn, Sunday suits pressed clean, houses paid money down, faces at the camera reposed, a gathering at ease, their truth in best clothes, all that history.