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
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
