Gardening His Own Future
He had been working with us.
Then it was a van, tools, a loan,
wheelbarrow carting his life.
Spades waited like oven peels
longing to palm away some earth.
He snipped roses, lopped branches
shoveled dirt, edged lawns
as he ploughed a garden in his mind.
The rake that pulled in the sun
scraped away the leaves
scratched green blades of litter.
The past was being composted
leaving behind the sweat of a logo.
His hands were free, released
from the knot of a tie.
Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales, he loves the outdoors and uses it to help him write. He has been published in various places in the UK and USA.