The lantana in the south garden

        The lantana in the south garden

        is older than the house

        its roots burrow in cool orange clay

        its leaves and stems scratch against the walls

        in the hollow hours of dawn.

        I have heard them both in reverie

        they trouble my sleep

        and yet I would not countenance

        its growth gone.

        Its origins and stock are steeped

        in a mist of memory-

        spread by birds or someone else

        perhaps to fill a space

        it survives between the comply

        of innocence and harm, heat and chill.

        The lantana in the south garden

        older than I am

                                  grows on

                                                  unbroken ends.

These poems are from my new collection IN THE APRICOT DARKNESS (view the cover and contents below in my recent posts). They are now being published individually, daily under 'recent posts' on my blog and will be available shortly as an eBook that can be read online or downloaded for free.