Entering another garden
The air is different here, suffused
With other scents, hot wrinkled fruit
Wistful as old baboushkas
A clogged pond full of bottlebrush weed
The trees hang over like guests
Waiting for the dessert…

I am not part of this wooden tabled existence
Wine and cigarettes
The children which have children
The words which drift through the hedge

I am stuck with inky fingers
And a heart that keeps ticking
Later,  I will eat the memory
With cream and a spoon.

Veronica Aldous 2016 all rights reserved


About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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