... or rather an extract, since the entire poem is nine times this length.
Some people earlier today were complaining that they already knew most of the poems they'd been seeing; I suspect that that's not true of this -- the middle nineth of Virtual Garden, by David Amery.
the house is there but the garden is gone the land has three new houses on
in bright red brick the end of the wall has left a mark exactly the height
of my own head in another time-zone I could stand on tiptoe and see right over
