An Occasional
Gardener
Along the old familiar lane
And up to the house that was my home
With a key that still fits within the lock
And turns easily as it always did
The rooms inside mostly empty
Awaiting a some-time final removal
Then stepping out to the garage and the shed
The garden and the greenhouse
To find the cobwebbed tools and mowers
Needed to give the old place its weekly trim
A short back and sides
To keep its neat appearance
And to do the running repairs
Until someone else can grasp the baton
And I can cease these painful visits
No longer an occasional gardener
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