summer garden

shade creeps towards me
from the big beech tree
blackbird sings
and sparrows chirp
on gently swinging feeders
in its arching branches
time has slowed in this heat
moving like syrup
as the sun slides slowly
down the slope
of the blue
I could sit here all day
like the cat beside me
lazing in this sticky garden
while bees hum about their business
and the breeze ruffles the trees
but this sun
will burn my pale skin
and fill my head with fluff
so slowly I will slither away
to safety in the shadow

time

time warps and bends

   like a runaway train
      it careers down the track
         whipping words from my lips
            and the breath from my lungs

there is no time left
for planning and shopping
and Christmas is piling on top of my head

 and yet

  like
   a sloth
     it is
   pon-der-ous-ly
 i n c h i n g
   along a branch
 slow
   and very
      nonchalant

time acts to spite me
and days seem so endless
waiting and waiting to hold you again