Lady Garden

My garden overflows this time of year
And, like most things,
It makes me dream of you.

You are the apples
Unpredictable from year to year
Sweet but tough
And given to cider.

You are the plum tree
Lazily uncared for
Unpruned
Refusing to give your fruit.

You are the loquats
Exotic beauty
With a cyanide core.

You are the raspberries
My sweet favourite
Wilding out of reach
Behind your greenhouse
Pinking my fingertips
Resisting my grasp.

I am your rhubarb fool.