The Wall

Sun drenched by Dordongian light

This breeze stroked corner of

The garden is prescribed

By the wall

Built of land’s solid history

Laid down aeons ago,

Held together by crumbling

Mortar and lichen's

Weathered dryness-

An ivy clad private world

Plaited with shadow

Trembling in the sway of warm air.

My shadowed corner-

Shelter to the horseflies

And purposeful ants

Scurrying across, under,

Over leaves lying

In another’s shade-

Stands fortress to the outside world.

I listen:

The sound of dry leaves

Rasping,

Bees humming their busy

Industrious dirge.

I watch:

A lizard,

Enlivened by the sun’s drench,

Appears and disappears as if

To purposely taunt.

I ponder all.

Then move to the shade

From the burn.

August 2010