Monday, 26 May 2014

soldier.

Welcome to the Imaginary Garden ...





I caress the worn out fabric
the decorated uniform
and the cap ,
in the old iron chests
resting with mothballs.

I look at the bend 
of the road , a footfall
in the twilight years.
Seasons in succession 
pass by .

As I walk along the path
lifting the stump of the stick.
Gone are you forever
I lay the red flower
your favourite colour
on your tombstone.

For :  Imaginary Garden with real toads