XII
Your garden is lost and it’s autumn,
you’d feel guilty if you knew
The green gates are rusting like iron,
the rain filling your anaemic shoes.
I’m losing you, I’ve lost you,
forgotten your shape
and the colour of your eyes.
You’re beyond the meadow
and the tree and the skylarks,
You’re only carbon but you’re
better than the skies.
Emily Ingram
Inspired by ‘Young Lions’ by The Maccabees
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