A black and white meditation
After reading of death
After reading of Doors for the Dead
A new light
With the singing of starlings
A fresh air
With the window flung wide open
She came here as a five year old
Thirty-eight years ago
Her parents were school teachers
Her father was a Buddhist
They came here in the school holidays
She remembers some of the gardens
Some of the hidden pathways
Although she feels
With some nostalgic sadness
Coupled-up to modern joy
That the inside of the house
Has changed beyond measure
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| Available on Kindle |
