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  • Visitor

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    Tarini Tipnis
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    A visitor finds themselves in a familiar garden among roses and a moss-covered birdbath, feeling the loose soil between their toes. They unbolt the back gate and enter through avenues of runner beans to the greenhouse, where time seems to slow in the heavy air filled with the scent of tomatoes and reminiscent of someone's hands. The visitor takes inventory of cracked flowerpots, discarded radio parts, and spilled seeds before closing the door, leaving the sun dozing inside while rainwater collects again in the shade under the laburnum tree, which the visitor empties but the water keeps returning.

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    A visitor finds themselves in a familiar garden among roses and a moss-covered birdbath, feeling the loose soil between their toes. They unbolt the back gate and enter through avenues of runner beans to the greenhouse, where time seems to slow in the heavy air filled with the scent of tomatoes and reminiscent of someone's hands. The visitor takes inventory of cracked flowerpots, discarded radio parts, and spilled seeds before closing the door, leaving the sun dozing inside while rainwater collects again in the shade under the laburnum tree, which the visitor empties but the water keeps returning.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
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    48 views1 page

    Visitor

    Uploaded by

    Tarini Tipnis
    A visitor finds themselves in a familiar garden among roses and a moss-covered birdbath, feeling the loose soil between their toes. They unbolt the back gate and enter through avenues of runner beans to the greenhouse, where time seems to slow in the heavy air filled with the scent of tomatoes and reminiscent of someone's hands. The visitor takes inventory of cracked flowerpots, discarded radio parts, and spilled seeds before closing the door, leaving the sun dozing inside while rainwater collects again in the shade under the laburnum tree, which the visitor empties but the water keeps returning.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    of 1

    Visitor

    I find myself standing in the garden


    among familiars: pink and yellow roses;
    an anniversary birdbath now wrapped in moss;
    the stone-grey football that soaks up water
    and wheezes like an old man. On the ridged path
    loose soil shifts between my toes.

    I reach over the back fence, unbolt the gate,


    sidestep the fat blackcurrant bush
    and weave through avenues of runner beans.
    In the heat of the greenhouse, time breathes
    slowly, the air heavy as tomatoes;
    the same air that hung about your hands.

    I make an inventory: cracked flowerpots;


    radio components awaiting reincarnation;
    spilt seeds still clinging to dreams of geraniums.
    I close the door. The sun stays inside, dozing.
    In the shade of the laburnum your collection of rain
    is brimming again. I deliver it. It keeps returning.

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