I miss the flowers of our old garden,
roses, foxglove, bleeding hearts, lilacs and lilies.
We had a garden that,
when tended well,
looked like part of Eden.
I have a new “our.”
You have a new “we.”
Both will start new gardens
and grow new things
as well as plant familiar flowers:
roses, bleeding hearts, lilies.
But enough new will grow
to make our own new paths to Eden.
Same sun, different rays, different light.
Different rainbows from opposite arcs.
Stars set in different ways in the same sky,
yours night while I see day.
Our own clouds upon which
to build new castles,
each its own
new haven for two.
Michael Griffith turned to poetry during a long stay in a nursing-care facilty to keep his mind healthy as his body grew healthier. So far poetry is doing the trick. He resides in Somerset County, NJ.
Foxglove Journal 