Mint from another Tyme

 
We thought they had died off,
like the Sunday lunch invites
spooned into gravy, smeared over lamb,
relaxing after with a good red
while the dog cried for leftovers.
 
There's parts of our garden
I haven't visited in a while,
too much work, too many weeds
but today there's a southerly breeze
that takes me back to that table.
 
Just for a moment you are with me
and I hear the kitchen clatter,
see your faces, each in its own place.
I follow that path and find you
not gone at all, just out of sight.
 
I shout to the house
"Guess what? they came back"
crush a handful and inhale
as if to store more moments. "Thank you"
I whispered as if the leaves could hear me.