It
was the sort of sun that towed our children
into
the garden. The heat had ironed it
to
a bright stave, and there were midges about,
a
grace-note or two. Into his midget chair
we’d
worked our younger. On the steps my daughter
jumped
with her mad mates and I had some doubt if
there
weren’t too many children for one garden.
Think
of the sun dizzy in so many veins!
...
