Just as the night falls
They begin to change their tactics
Using scent rather than colour to paint the landscape
As they come together from different parts of the garden,
to bake an invisible cake.
Sweet honey suckle
Earthy, August hay
Their balmy scents embrace each other passionately in thick, dark swirls.
They are in control now, as they begin to distort the sounds that try to break in from the other side of the garden:
A laughter drowning in a watermelon blossom
A car stereo mellowed by leaves flickering in the summer night breeze
A cricket merging its tune to that of the water sprinkler
As the wet ground begins to sing it’s own song, to the tunes of cinnamon and vanilla
(from the poetry collection Poems for a Planet Running Out of Time)