Reseeding Eden

Red fruit peeks from behind green leaves

Needs picking, an overdue plucking

Before it ripens into rank and rot

The garden needs weeding

Eden needs seeding afresh

Now that summer has long gone

Faded to sepia and gold

After a hymn for the dying

is said over the reliquiae of

A kingdom not quite grasped

‘not for bloody years’

‘Don’t carry on so

Tom’,

She says, softly seething

All that tearing up of roots

All that slashing and burning

would need such vim and vigour,

Such energy and effort, such as our poor limbs

 no longer possess

All that

For what

To trigger the Verdigris shoots of discovery

To finger hapless hopes of recovery