poems

Garden

graveyard garden

Solitary in a garden where things grow and I don’t.

A distinguished poppy looks at me with meaning, whilst I cannot look at myself.

There’s a dog which might be a wolf, apparently it’s symbolic.

Bright green in varying shades ripples through the grass into eternity on a wave of lonliness.

The breeze is nice.

I’m too heavy for it to carry me away.

There’s a floating balloon, I doubt it will stay.

My Nan’s here but not really.

She’s an echo of a memory which was never real.

I don’t like the sound of it.

I’ve heard enough.

She whispers something about intelligence and fear stopping me living life.

I ignore her, she doesn’t deserve me.

The breeze is gone and her with it.

A balloon pops on some old privets.

I ignore the fallen note “forgive me”.

I ignore her, she doesn’t deserve me.

Copyright G.P Williamson 2017.

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