This week’s poem from New and selected – Puppet workshop

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The tulips 
I pick for my wife 
from our garden 
open 
and close, 
breathing  
the light. 
Open. 
Close.

The hospital breathes people. 
In the morning, 
there’s never enough room  
in the car park. 
Before the rush  
of evening visitors, 
there are many spaces.

Take an item of clothing, 
with the slightest movement 
make it come alive. 
Respiration. 
Attention.

The tulips  
I picked for my wife 
from our garden 
open 
and close, 
breathing  
the light. 
Open.  
Close.

Watercolour by John Davies