She continues to appear – to fill my mind, then goes off leaving behind a dull ache, though sometimes a full blown blast of news that’s seven years old.
I sit in a small Mediterranean garden her doing as it turns out, bought and occupied to relieve the pain and emptiness – continuing somehow to get on with it.
A barren lemon tree reaches high while its more recent sister shows five fruit on tiny stems. Oleanders blossom rich pink, hibiscus show their radiant rich red and peach flowers on thinning branches. A vicious cactus defies murderous cuts and damages all who come within feet of it, hacked hedging fails to register its need for control.
Time to leave the flowered haven for the wilds of beach.
It is the first time to be away from home, not to be near those who may or may not know, So a new venture here, a consequence of her.