David Whitwell



I was out of it the whole of May

spent most of my time sitting.

Not reading, not busy at all

just quietly by myself.

No, I would say, I’m not going out,

I won’t be joining you.

I rejoiced to out of hospital,

free and on my own.

Each day spring advancing

the garden coming to life. 

I let the grass grow,

and without my cutting and fussing

wild flowers were springing up.

I said I would never complain

about anything ever again.



Of course it didn’t last,

this honeymoon with my life.

As my strength returned

I got back to the old routine,

leaving just an everyday kind of freedom,

I hardly notice at all.

But some of it lives on

in the wildness of the garden.