The path confesses
to a fleeting indecision,
pauses by the pond
then splits,

one arm exploring
in the shrubbery,
the other luring older visitors
towards the compost heap.

Against the garage wall,
the trellis plays its game
of noughts and crosses
with a clematis,

imposes gridlock
on chaotic life —
entwining stems
so profligate with flowers.

Distant clinks of cup on saucer
promise the precision
of a 4pm refreshment.
On the patio, perhaps.

Afterwards, we'll stroll
along the Promenade,
admire the red geraniums.
Our certainties are indestructible.