Ian Harrow

En Retrait

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Since I decided to accept this

quiet corner of the garden

as my undeserved Elysium

and to make the birdsong and the flowers

stand for the rightness of everything,

I find I have no need to show

how many pieces the world is in,

how better and worse it always is;

where motivated reason and

unreason lead and where the next

fall and salvation’s coming from.

No remorse, the last hurrah

of influence, survives this light,

constant and evenly-spread, from lawn

and bush, towards the open fields.