CAROLYN HOWARD
Rewilding It is late summer Now she is letting the grass grow, Not under her feet but around her. Panicles of tor, rye and meadowtail caress fingertips. Now she is sowing wild flower seed, Red campion, poppy and forget-me-not, Bring the promise of jewels of ruby and sapphire. Now she no longer cuts back, And honeysuckle, nettles and dog rose, Tousle through once-tamed hedges of suburban ease. Now she breathes in the scents Of lavender, rosemary and marjoram, And breathes out the duties of a lifetime. She is rewilding. Her garden is where now she will be she.
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