Golden Shovel (After W.H. Davies) Poem by Diana Rosser

Dissolving inside left no
wanting or reason for time

Care had dragged her deep into
black - she could no longer stand

I wanted to seep beneath
her walls, clamber between the

choking vines strangling her boughs -
Reach in, drag her by the hand

into the moment - to stare
out over the deep trees as

wild geese stretch forward their long
necks in clean blue air - watch as

sun draws stars bright, while night sheep
wander into daylight and
the soft low, lowing of cows.