Sky matching the pink roses
The blackberry flowers
We sit here and write
I am already grieving
The bulldozers in my mind's eye
A driveway to a cowfield
You don't realize I mean here
Butterflies in the budlea
Yesterday I saw your ghost
On the way to the cabin
Its ghost deck in the redwoods
Where we snuggled for warmth
Singing Wagon Wheel
Fiddle, banjo, guitar
Wondering how many people
Before the deck falls
(We have all
Fallen already
A long time ago.
We live on
A fallen world)
It's easy if you roll around
Don't plant a garden, set roots
The fruit trees, I moved
Because they were gifted or traded
For goat cheese, my friendship with goats
But I stopped caring for them
Once, I moved with tomato plants
Living indoors with them until snow settled
Outside, eating their sweet gem fruit
In a forest of warm, green smells
We became allergic to them later
I forgave my grandmother sooner
For setting her gardener on my almost ripe corn
And pansies, trundled on trains and bikes
With babies in pushchairs
Because she didn't want us to go
And only told him to dig the nettles
So I'll plant a forever garden
On the page, with seeds of kindness
Your soft blue eyes, grey hair
Pink roses and blackberry flowers
Purple butterflies in the budlea
Nettle green tea smelling of mint
We picked under the apple trees
By the pigsty
Where a myriad squashes seeded themselves
After the pigs were gone
And we can water it with our tears
Or not. Life goes on
After we leave
