A Red Shoe and a Dragonfly

"Doesn't one always think of the past, in a garden with men and women lying under trees? Aren't they one's past, all that remains of it, those men and women, those ghosts lying under trees...one's happiness. one's reality?" - Kew Gardens, Virginia Wolf

I wavered
She stirred by the summer breeze
Spots of colour raised upon the surface
Staining heart-shaped leaves

She wavered about and I sought
the shade beneath a tree
a cool light breeze

She, turning ceaselessly in the grass,
yellow and green
between the drops of water

And I, a dash of colour,
As if my body had substance
not only blue and green to remembrance
dissolving in the atmosphere
thought I could say
'It's time we had our tea'