Gardens are opaque
Like glass houses in snow-sleet
Sheltered, spare and neat
The queen bee stood still
In the stinging air of night
The drones hum at work
Skinny blades of grass
Cut into sheer silken stream
Let the soiree begin
Red roofed house: mossy
Algae swim at a puddle’s edge
Grey reflections of Time
Skyline pastoral
I blink once twice thrice and shut
My eyes from the Sun
Deep dark wooded land
Glittering in ashen glow
Devoured by flames
