Long!

Long I laboured

through the seasons

through the years

working

on the plot:

delighting

as digging blistered my palms

and the soil grew fertile

as digging pained my back

and plants grew strong -

grew verdant

beside the deep dug pond

with its little stream

where I placed fish

 

an unplanned golden feast for a heron

and an otter

 

And as each year my allotment grew

her allotted time grew less

she left too soon:

she never walked my woodland path

felt the sun on my patio

or picked the brash blooms

in the lower garden,

the apples

in the orchard

 

or saw the otter

 

Yet

when I see

the garden lights

reflected

in her eyes -

then

yes, then, there is beauty