Now we are out of The City.

Alone in the Garden

He was working in the garden, planting new daffodils
I watched him as he patted the soil like silk,
Stroked the petals as if they were crying
Oppressive amber tears.

He turned to me and called -

'Bring out some more soil from the outhouse!'
Against a lazy breeze I skipped and jumped,
just to see what it felt like to be callow and carefree.

Then the rain engulfed his garden: his essence.

He laughed blissfully and danced like a schoolboy in the showers;
'Isn't it wonderful? Whoever thought I would go like this?
Tell your father I'll stay in the garden a little while!'

Then I watched him as he savoured fallen joy,

And listened to him chuckle in a mass of vivacious love.
Because he had never looked so alive and free...
Then I wept as his ghost faded away.