I lie in your flowerbed, my body contorted through the twists of the roots of your rosebush...where I wait to be discovered.
I have travelled from garden to garden. I snuck into your place by crawling under the wall; I took a deep breath and plunged down through the stiff, saturated mess at the bottom of the barrier.
I won't wait here forever. I got tired of waiting next door. I lay in the ground for very many years, but no-one ever came. So I've moved on to you.
I never had much faith in Mrs Monkton, but you're different. You're inquisitive. I can tell. So come out into the garden and rummage around the roots of your rosebush. I'm waiting there now, and I'd really love to meet you.
No comments:
Post a Comment