Farewell I Wish That You Are Very Happy

I’m sitting on a river bench. The plaque reads:
he lived, laughed, loved, and left

and after him, things still grew from the Wall -
trees, houses, weather, childish summers,

winter mornings quick with hope and frost
as if for the first time,

cobwebs of electricity hummed overhead, the river
and the sky moved in the same direction,

past Vindolanda where a man called Maior wrote
I’M WARMING THE BED AS I WRITE TO YOU

past this bench where I receive the letter
though it’s not addressed to me

no, such destinations are not for us, only their ruins -
the lone children of our love and laughter. And that’s it.

Barely I have the time to make a note of this.
Barely he had the time to write
FAREWELL I WISH THAT YOU ARE VERY HAPPY