I waited so long for spring to come,
no hope through winter -
a longing for salad.
Suddenly summer’s here and I’m turned to stone,
still hibernating in winter mode.
Bracken, trees and grass,
my house lost in the weeds -
green cottage dressed.
Earth’s rhythm continuing,
whilst I am a statue.
Bare and cold and lichen clad,
alone I wait beneath a verdant curtain -
the season’s turn.
Bathed in lushness – light shines,
through the cracks, finding me.