Jungle
It’s January but outside the lawns and grassy verges
are very green after months of rain and the palm trees
in the frontage at the end of our road are thriving.
I love the spread fans of their spiky leaves
and the yellowish cacti spears underneath them –
they jump me to a holiday we had years ago
in Trinidad where our bodies always felt clammy
and even the grass smelt of heat. A mini forest
is flourishing next door and every year the amount
it’s grown surprises me. On the verge
dandelions are in flower and I wonder if the planet
is forgetting winter-cold. The parakeets have disappeared
from our back garden but they’ll be back by spring
and maybe screeching cockatoos will arrive too.
Last night I dreamt I heard tomato frogs
croaking in the brook at the bottom of our park
and I smiled at monkeys swinging on our plum trees,
believing England had reverted to rainforest.