April 15, 2016:
The maid was in the garden. Scarlet runners. Virginia creepers.
Morning after the bazaar dance when May's band played Ponchielli's dance of the hours.
Lovely spot it must be: the garden of the world,
big lazy leaves to float about on, cactuses,
flowery meads, snaky lianas they call them.
Over after over.
Better luck next time.