I had better post this other of my garden poems. THe lilac died.
And with it my heart.
Lilac
The tree surgeon has hatchetted my lilac.
Now it is bare head-high spikes
Where before was green plumage.
He hopes he has stopped the rot.
Twenty years it stood there unpruned.
Growing vaster and vaster every year,
Rich in purple blossom.
Now it cannot support itself anymore
As the weight of branches makes it split;
So the lilac has a fresh beginning.
The buds already show on the bare wood.
I hope that the poison was not too deep
And that the frost won't get at it.
Now it has a second chance
To re-occupy its space in the garden.
Not many of us get that.
Can you be young again after twenty years?
The lilac may outlive me yet.
Douglas Clark, Bath, England mailto: [log in to unmask]
Lynx: Poetry from Bath .......... http://www.bath.ac.uk/~exxdgdc/lynx.html
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