All those damning secrets buried in your garden….
Does it ever get lonely, watching the wildflowers wilt one by one?
Or do you revel in the secrecy?
Tongue tied, I am deciding to leave the enclosed stone wall
For a babbling brook, or ducks who arrive in Winter,
Or even a silver frosted forest.
I’d rather be shivering these days then keep warm
And pretend to know what flowers you like most.