Galvey

For the weekend, 
miles and miles and
miles in the saddle. 

For sweet hedgerows and grandmother’s paper skin
and her dry hands. 
Imagine a summer spent fixing the roof. 
Grandfather nor grandson
make vinaigrette like she did 
when she could. 

The gunnera has grown
each silver birch a different diameter. 
Behind a brick in the pond
a frog hides - 
from the hot sun - 
and from the dog’s eyes. 

It’ll do for the weekend, 
miles and miles and
miles in the saddle.