Good News Garden

There is only
good news now.

The leaf touched by
dawn’s grace.

The wildflowers
bright again,

bees breaking
into buzz

after the sleepy
silence of night.

Now the colours are
yellow, gold, green,
pink, purple and blue,

a meadow of colours
dreamt and undreamt.

Look close at the
curve of bee
on a papery petal.

Let the perfume
of wild rose
paint you in pink.

Step aside
from night’s
tangle-eyed
shadows
of black
and grey.

Enter the meadow
of clear colour
in sunlight.

There is only
good news here.

Garden Wild

I live outside
of things.

I creep close
to the bushes
and grunt
in the leaves
with the hedgehogs.

I breathe in
sweet jasmine
I breathe out
all the houses
I used to know.

My dress hangs
on a rose thorn
in a closet of
moonlit marigolds.

I am captured by
green wild owl
eyes and
none of the places
I used to know.

My face turned
towards sun
my heart a
flaming bird
burning as it goes.