ybrids of Plants and Ghosts

Stretched out in my garden for two weeks

in a buzz of frantic activity,

I seem to be attracting close attention.


The local inhabitants have crawled out

of their lives to enter mine and have made me

feel oddly at home. I thought I was

all alone: an island isolated

undone, amongst other unattended.


But my new-found friends have intimated

how we can all be lush and ripe and strangely

respectful and accommodating.


And yes, at least the waiting worms have

put on their napkins and are returning me

- without rancour – to that green condition

of last season’s richly-manured marrow

having said grace – or something.