High octane down the garden lane
Cascading towards a rocky fate
Bruised knees and bleeding palms
Bruises heal and scrapes will fade
Memories too will disappear
And weeds will change the garden’s face
Do we freeze the moment, as it was,
Protect the garden, stop the pain
Control the child, end the run
Fence in the roses and the rocks
All for a lasting memory
A photograph which will not fade?
Or do we leap across the lane
Making choices we may well forget
Yet making choices none the less
With all the wisdom we can fake.
Running through the garden gate
Our aging brains may well forget
But our souls will know a life well led.