John Gillies

Behind the drowning clematis, the wall's
Still hopeful of a breakthrough. Time and distance
Bicker in corners. Stone laps crumbling stone,
Like sleepy cats who indiscriminately
Lick self and other. Always there's a moment
In any garden, when I look your way
And sense your sudden longing for the earth -
The darker part - the stone in the stream's bed -
Nights without stars.