|Journal » Trout 17 »|
Sarah Jane Barnett
John trims the low shrubs by the rustic stone wall
on the ground, on a tartan rug, and looks like he is crossing
is an unconscious act, the companion of orderliness.
He wants to start a business with vegetables, a small
but the rock is not local. It's luck that has kept them alive,
where the hollyhock, foxglove, viola, pansy and peony
The train orders the view of the Chilean countryside.
glasses. He appears asleep—at least dozing—but then surfaces
of a phone the size of a briefcase, the leather patterned
and withdrawal from tobacco, he says, later. I don't want to mine
as he strokes the fox with one thumb. When I got out I thought
|© Copyright 2012 Sarah Jane Barnett & Trout.|