Carpe Diem

From my study window
     I see you
below in the garden, a hand
     
here pruning
or leaning across to snip
     
a wayward shoot,

a daub of powder-blue in a
     profusion of green;
then next moment, you are
      
no longer there –
only to reappear, this time
     
perfectly framed

in dappling sunlight, with
     an armful of ivy
you’ve trimmed, topped by
      
hyacinth blooms,
fragrant survivors of last
      
night’s frost.

And my heart misses a beat
      at love for you,
knowing a time will come
     
when you are
no longer there, nor I here
     
to watch you

on a day of such simplicity.
     Meantime let us
make sure we clasp each
     
shared moment
in cupped hands, like water
    
we dare not spill.

 

from The Touch of Time: New and Selected Poems (Bloodaxe, 2014), ? Stewart Conn 2014, used by permission of the author and the publisher.

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