The camera lies. I have proof.

During a visit to the reclamation yard I saw this magnificent chance for  photo. A reflection in a big mirror which stood behind some open backed shelves. I love how our bodies just disappeared! And how our heads are resting on shelves.

I was looking for some random pieces of wood to bang nails into, to hold my latest series of poems entitled The Keys to Love. Here they are hanging up in my shed, printed on labels, with letterpress label titles, and little keys.

As the scrapyard is now a reclamation yard, which means everything there is  tidier and more expensive than it used to be, I  couldn't find the scruffy old bits of wood I was hoping for.

But I did see myself pictured, alive , but with no body!

poem. making time.

making time
I stand at the back door
whenever I can and
gaze at the garden,

at six in the morning
a minute or two to spare
as I drink my tea,

in the afternoon instead of
doing something else,

in the dusk as
the garden takes a breath,

or last thing at night

I stand at the back door
whenever I can and
gaze


It's the perfect antidote to feeling as though there is too much to do and too little time. I have lots of mirrors in my small garden, and this is the view of the looking glass garden through one of them.