Take a Walk in My Garden

There is a path made of stones and trees
the missing me of memories.
Daffodils aswirl in summer sun
because the broken soil has left someone.
Snapshot photos, and shiny teeth,
and light-washed stars leading me.
Awoken in moonlight, sleeping in twilit March,
it sleeps in my bones
and marches, marches across the battlefield.
Stares at my light
forgets to fight in daylight
stops and stands still.
My garden that smells of vineyard perfume,
the lavender of lilacs, the topaz of June,
with hairspray and cocoa awash in the snow,
clamps down hard
slow, so slow.
The gold is fool's gold
it is a lie, it is a truth.
And with a hint of ruthlessness
it yields a coloured field,
and it shows where my eyes are bound.

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