The garden is in a glass case,
flowers watercolour paintings on air.
Cari sleepwalks up the path,
ears a tangle of mown grass,
a flash of sunlight on her back.
Rain is on the outside,
up a steep incline to where the sky’s
basement hangs from a dark cloud.
One by one the apples fall;
they hit the ground like soap bubbles,
vanish on the tip of a blade of grass.
A pollution of shadows creep behind my eyelids,
forcing them to open, as the sun slips
through a gap in the basement wall.

Cari, my Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

Rowland Hughes ©