In the corner of my

garden

there lives a little imp.

He’s mischievous,

dark and playful,

and he reminds me

of those little things

that i care not to remember.

 

With a wink in his eye,

and a smile that’s not a smile,

he reminds me of such

little things,

such big things,

such longings and dreams,

even pain and travail.

 

His laugh has an echo,

this little imp

that lives

in my garden.

 

27/10/2010