....my last summer here

This evening the sun is a river

glazing 

the surfaces of my kitchen.

I eat a summer supper

in the company 

of  bees

feasting on

lavender,

my feet resting 

on hot patio

stone.

I keep my sunglasses on

to fight laser brightness 

pouring through

 the clear roof

while I wash 

plates 

and a glass

in hot suds.

Now the perfume of night garden -

fresh earth and grass,

 honeysuckle and 

jasmime

is piercing through open blinds

into the hot stillness of

  my bedroom.

And it hurts me 

knowing

 this is my last summer here.

Leaving behind the bees

and 

all the memories 

of our love 

sunk into the 

hot brick 

of the 

garden walls.