by Coral Carter
The gardener has gone
like really gone
won’t be back
at all
ever
on my phone
the security cameras roll on
two thousand klicks away
I see the side garden
back garden
front door
the empty clothes line
yellow bin
red geraniums
the dry bird bath
on my small screen
geraldton wax
emu bushes
and their shadows
develop a digital twitch
the hose curved
across the pavers
remains
unmoved.