Anna Couani #211 the walled garden

the cat is curled up in a ball

in a pot plant in the sun

finally discovered

Sunday morning as a day off

a second cup of tea

jazz on the radio

turned down low

on the metal mesh deck

the new flats now

block out our city glimpses

but confer a new atmosphere

the walled garden

a sense of containment

straight out of Morocco, Jerusalem

strip off the shirt to get sun

like a Northern European tourist

the neighbour’s tall palm and silvery eucalypt

tower over the space

leaves moving faintly

our vertical garden glowing in the sunshine

the weathered timber lattice

becomes a screen in the walled garden

and now the wall of the flats

blocks out traffic noise

so the radio turned down low

is only interrupted by a passing plane

sunlight illuminates the leaves of the iris plants

like blades of light planted in pots

southwards through the glass doors

is the balcony of the house across the lane

eastwards is the white wall

enclosing the courtyard

so the backyards of the six small properties become fused

create extra dimensions

the glass roof originally meant to suggest a jewel box

the glass windows and doors, the transparent desk

finally fulfil the original design brief

the screens the white tiles

multiply the space

screen the space