Foresworn forsooth forsaken 

What for some would be a tragedy 

is actually an amazing triumph of

will a time and motion study 

across years of toil to get this 

square of grass these four fences

washing line pile of bricks

diffusion hob little robin

red beast hopping nothing

so delicate that joy 

wouldn’t touch beneath 

moss covered tiles curtains

resolutely shut at 08:33

collapsing trampoline some things

evergreen the occasional holiday

moss slowly claiming the gaps 

between the large slate tiles

maybe an exploding egg 

or two from Quaker hens

who lay happy eggs

a solitary wagtail rusted escutcheons

of old TV displaced by satellite trails

ornate garden furniture turning black

rough looking cats just

passing through.