Looking back over my shoulder

Who is that boy I see looking back at me?

Shading his eyes with a smile on his face.

How can I hear him laughing while playing

down by the river he seems out of place.

Why is he dressed like he lives in the fifties?

Short trousers and wellies with dirt on his knees.

He jumps for the rope swing over the river

why does he look so familiar to me.

Why are the roads all cobbled not tarmac?

Why are there gas lamps lining the street?

Why are there steam trains and old fashioned tramcars?

Why does everything seem bittersweet?

He runs down the path to the field and his playmates,

I can't keep up I don't move at that pace.

His school friend, I know them! 

Jimmy!  they  call him,

now things all fall back into place.