Maria’s Photo.

Maria’s Photo..

Kilmacurragh in October.

 

Maria’s Photo.

Ruin, the house

Fenced in /fenced out.

Echiums jump over,

Squat on the steps

Uninvited.

Rejected.

Kilmacurragh,

Reminder of an Arcadia

The Acton‘s antipodean plants

The sons and daughters,

The bottle of champagne at the door

Undrunk.

The 14 gardeners,

Synge catching the

Hogger in the orchard.

Lost in French trenches.

The house memorialises.

The dead at the heart of their garden.

Plant’s long shadows,

The Dim of cobbled walkways

Built for ladies strolling in bustles

And parasols.

Not for you.

 

You stride out in boots

No nonsense.

Knapsack, Woolly cap

Without the pom-pom.

Shadows grow, advance.

You are the child,

That you were once.

A little pixie,

Your little face looking up,

Down cast camera

Tied around your neck

Poised in your fingers.

Like a sprung gun

Ready for the rise, lift and shoot.

 

What to aim for?

Ferns, dead nettle, cranesbill

Prostate at your feet?

Their spring is past.

Tasmanian gum trees?

Stand around, background

They will be spectral in winter’s chill.

The wind blows, the sun shines

Giant golden daisies lean out,

Spartan grasses shimmer,

Boston ivies blush on walls.

“Take me, please take me”.

 

 

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