Morwenna

The Old Gardener

 

He looks carefully,

Tenderly,

At small new shoots.

He observes their frail stalks

As they blithely emerge from the dark earth.

 

The rough ground of his face

And unruly fronds of his eyebrows

Betray the days and years and decades

Gleaning and gathering what he knows.

 

He considers how best to help

These fragile newcomers

As they take their place in our dangerous world.