Rockhollow in August
A bee swings by, across the steps, down to the garden
where cabbage butterfly flits undisturbed, a sparrow sits on the summerhouse roof planning her next move.
The cardoons gently tip
over, as rhubarb flourishes and
cosmos dances on stiff breeze.
A blackbird rises from the perrenial border, echinops, verbena, leucanthemum cast aside.
Mosquito larvae form a carpet on the pond,
snacks for the tadpoles and frogs,
but not those eaten by birds.
A tired sort of a day scrapes by,
I weed the beds, chat to the neighbours over the wall, sit on the swing
and generally watch life go by.