In yesterday’s brilliant and warm afternoon sun, I sat and talked to two of the Garden visitors, Eileen and Robert. Somewhat languidly, we spoke of trees, plants, food, and acquaintance (it turned out we have mutual acquaintances). And of course we wrote poetry. Here’s one of Eileen’s:
Ah, the fronds of ferns, lolling in the sun
Minding me of love.
Majestic canopies of oak,
Shading tone fading astilbe.
I drink up the silence of the sequoia,
Quenching the ancestral thirst.
The red admiral flirts with death
Nearly at peace.
and one from Robert:
One leaf in light, sunlight
What would the light be
without the leaf.