David Bosanquet Gardens
You are beautiful when the facsimile is complete,
flowers resplendent,
and the focus of eyes hungry for lost decorum,
the patterned tables, chairs,
wrought iron ornaments, mark
a harmony with the weaving weeds in the terrace,
and so too the planted trellis,
but now, in early spring,
while your neat rectangle of water remains drained,
I can't help but notice the sad fountain-
a sputtering pipe,
exposed bone,
and the garden falls apart.
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