Winter Garden

There, in my tender mind's eye our
summer garden still thrives in grand
colourful insouciance, a vivid reminder
of loss in a winter landscape whose
confined colour palette wearies my
consciousness that reverts to dreaming
of summer breezes, a searing sun
casting brilliance over the banished
splendour that roses and lilies awaken
my grieved sensibilities to mourn.
And does nature care that we are so
deprived of the joy of summer gardens?
She remains removed and singularly
unimpressed. This is, after all, her
world and we its tenants. These are
her seasons and she has her reasons.
Our gardens are her gardens in very
fact, on loan in the most temporary of
ways. Yet empathy does not completely
elude her. She nudges us to notice and
regard her very own unrivalled winter
garden, there for our visual comfort.