You could figure it as a trapdoor,
blur of hinge and
down
into the unconscious of this stranger
...
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I'm not sure about this one—the meaning—I mean. I'm somewhat dense on the metaphors at times. I love the imagery and certainly enjoy a stroll in the gardens. There's something sinister at work here, though, something threatening to take over the garden. Is it a pest? A parasite? Chaos? Well done, anyway, and will keep me wondering. Perhaps my fellow PH colleagues can elucidate?
To have your house. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
down into the unconscious of this stranger moving around your garden like a trap— making all the greens unstable as the warble of nausea come bang up to greet you. Bang to rights is how he'd like to have your house. Nice work.
Congratulations, Ma'am Fiona for being chosen as modern poem of the day.....