Garden Day Poem

And this was Cynthia Fuller's poem


Moorbank


Take refuge here. The garden is

a cup of breathing green

rimmed by the city’s noise –

the swell and drone of cars,

the lost dogs barking to go home.

It is a living habitat

for urban birds – a nest of song.

Roots are pushing deep below

concrete and tarmac.

Time could slow here to the pace

of ancient trees, or quicken

to keep step with the sudden poppy

whose orange tissue flares

and crumples in a day.