At the exhibition, I used this photograph of Neath Abbey in early morning light, to remember a friend who died when we were both nineteen.
This picture was set to a poem by Rupert Brook, called 'THE WAYFARERS'
Is this the hour? We leave this resting place
Made fair by one another for a while.
Now for a god-speed, one last mad embrace;
The long road then, unlit by your faint smile.
Ah! the long road! and you so far away!
Oh, I'll remember! but . . . each crawling day
Will pale a little your scarlet lips, each mile
Dull the dear pain of your remembered face.
. . . Do you think that there's a far border town, somewhere.
The desert's edge, last of the lands we know,
Some gaunt eventual limit of our light,
In which I'll find you waiting; and we'll go
Together, hand in hand again, out there,
Into the waste we know not, into the night?