Good Friday Poem by Tom Harding

It's hot today. i hold my hand
Against the yellow dry stone wall
And flicker the crumbling clay
Where the bees have been working.

I uphold the bent flowers
That have sunken under heat
And liberally water the geraniums,
Doing their best
To out shine the sun for me.

I befriend the birds with scraps of meat.
I cut back the leycsteria.
I sacrifice the dying morning glories
For the good of the plant.

I go about like some tender god
Nurturing the short avenue of my world.

The sun is shining for me.
Soon i will have to think about
How best to fix the bees.