Poem of the month November 2024
Days
This garden is full of days,
Summer days of waking in a light room;
in these days, heat rises from dry earth,
tools are hot to the hand.
Plants long for water that comes
in heavy afternoons, green with rain.
In summer days the dusk slips into evening unnoticed.
The light stays as long as it dares.
Voices hang in the quiet twilight
after the house is closed for the night.
This garden is full of days,
Winter days of waking before daylight,
the house grown cold in the night.
In these days colours are too bright to last.
Afternoon mist steals the shape of things;
at dusk the smell of wood smoke and wet leaves.
In these days evenings are for the comfort of lit rooms,
for watching from the window as the great tree disappears.
In these nights the garden breathes in the dark.