I see you still
stooped, in your garden
as the night falls around you
but when I reach out
you are already leaving

what happens
when the heart has gone
from a garden
from the bee-buzzing sweetness
of the flowers

further than daylight
wheat fields stretch
to a darkening sky
a man and his dog
going home

this morning
I stood on the hill
as the sun rose
and a late Morepork
called your name


These things I hold sacred
the right of children to be fed
the right of a man to earn his bread
the right of the elderly
to sleep in the sun, without fear
the right of all life to be cherished

© Maureen Sudlow

sun rising