A bowl of blue and white korean shards,
a tiny chinese figurine of an elderly man in a yellow cloak
and a bonsai red geranium, or pelargonium, I forget which ...
My sister left it, years ago.
I don't know where the time has gone.
Days sand-whistled and spun, silk cocoon, mulberry sun ...
I miss the tree the girls would climb and come down coloured in juice,
the copse of shade, the butterfly path, chickens and eden ...
Here, the garden lies beneath ;
seahorse nibble seaweed ; clouds mount, nights not cold but longer now.