THE LONELY GARDEN

The flowers had long since packed their bags
Departed to underground caverns 
To meet with friends

And the trees stood bare and resting
Their children seen off in glorious colours
Nurtured and released with pride

The birds had migrated to far off shores
The air hung heavy with the song of it all
Just a lonely robbin left to mourn

And so the garden stood in solemn silence
Frosted and bare
Crying out it's loss 

To the icy air.
Marion Price (2019)