Learned

	The sun has passed the garden
	at 6 o'clock in May
	lighting the neighbour's
	grass like a lamp
	whilst I am all in shadow
	from the trees.

I take my ease despite:
a good day of Skype
with a dear friend;
then tackling the dandelions
in the grass; then cutting
turf and stacking it
like peat to dry: tomorrow
I will save the soil
to put back on the beds.

My sour neighbour's face
went out to work a
while ago, and I consider
going in as it is
getting cool.

The little red squirrel cannot
work out how to
lift the lid, and eat,
at the same time,
I grin listening to the
box lid banging: he'll
learn.

We all learn from our 
mistakes (some more than
others) but tonight this place
is peaceful, so my heart
says, as I sit and
breathe the fragrant air
and watch the still and
silent trees dressed
in all their green,
and I wish myself
nowhere else.  In the
evening of my life I must
judge myself with love.
I have nothing else
to prove.

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