To celebrate the publication

Of my first successful novel

I purchased a nice house

Halfway along Chesterfield Avenue

My sister and I lived there

For a number of years

In total ignorance

Of what happened in the park

We frequently entertained friends

Under the low leafy trees

Or had picnics near the boating lake

It was only after I met Valerie

And had sold my beloved home

That I learned a promising actress

Who had appeared in a few wartime films

Had been murdered only yards from my gate

It was a particularly brutal murder

Which has long slipped from memory

As the killer was never caught

Occasionally I still visit friends

Who live in Chesterfield Avenue

But the park that I once loved

No longer feels the same

If anything its corruption lingers

And I feel uncomfortable

When I am nearby