I cannot
And I do not
And so there is a sense
Of the waste of it all
I care not
And I shall not
And so there is a label
For the flakiness of it all
I am here
While the rose red trees
Refreshed by wind and rain
Are in my neighbour’s garden
Their bearers cannot
And shall not
Be with us today
Lifetime’s toll has taken them both
Though I do remember that innocence
And joy
As we talked of poets
Sat in their floral armchairs
