IN THE GARDEN OF WAITING

In the garden of waiting

for you to stop

aborting

me

and them,

I am enjoying

what life there is.

Garry oak and white

iris, turtle and dragonfly,

you shouldn’t try

to curtail the

flow

of strange

into this world.

Although you won’t

stop burying the saint

moments of

why,

alive,

maybe they’ll

resurrect

you.