Site icon A Hundred Falling Veils

On the Other Side of the Fence

On the Other Side of the Fence

A low fence lined
with wild roses.

Two white chairs
and a round white table.

Scent of a recent
afternoon rain.

Beet greens proud,
crimson veined and tall

and the gooseberries swollen
nearly red.

In this small garden
everything tended.

In me a longing
to love you like that.

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