'The Uncharted Land of Your Garden'

I'd never walked this far across the

pathway before.

And the uncharted land of your garden stood

in blades of tall grass.

And the wind has been quiet recently,

The sky greying,

reflected into the depths of greenery.

​

You where sitting in the living room and

plates clicked against the faucet, I stared

through the portal of your double window

pane,

feeling my feet rest on the roots of the

grass.

The wind rushed underneath me lifting my jacket

and pushing my hair over my eyes,

​

I took each step across and felt the

rain-dropped water warm my skin,

now picking up in speed I walked with the

wind, to stand monument on your wall.

Reading a map written in your expression.

​

Now standing, overlooking the grass we

spoke in the grey shades of the autumn

afternoon, the same shades a year earlier

had coloured the concrete.

Ash paints each grey square.

Layering texture into the canvas

​

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