The little girls next door are playing singing games in the garden

Suspended in air war planes fling out bombs on refugees

In the peace of the garden the little girls ring-a-round in singing games

The numbers on the Stockmarket announce a radio:

In my garden is air both hot and still, with only insects flying

The pool it is green and overflowing with lily pads

One dark invisible fish swims, pop! a waterboatman’s lunched

In cages along El Paso’s border children aliens stack

Who is it sets the forest fires, pours sump oils down fresh wells,

The guys who explode the temples, serve up novichok

All people wrapped up, suffocated, in their pillow thoughts

We were the first to justify ourselves our reasons

I listen, a bird, a songster, small and distant, in a green tree

On its high summer carolling short-lived hours away

Small voice unattentive, careless of a supplementary death

Tacked-on as ending; generously prevails

Hazy is heard on basking summer days the sounding round

Traffic in sultry bumpered rows, parade loud music loudly

Everyone joining in their songs and instruments all different

The garden’s harmonic buzz; mayflies with crickets consort

Follow and know no distinctions differentiations

All absorbed; are the garden, arm of leaf and branch,

The silent air spills scented, then there’s sap and transpiration

All’s conjoined; but humanity several, lives disappointed