I laid the path from the back of the house to the gate about 25 years ago. The flower-shapes that lead to the garage were added three years ago, once we began to use it regularly, a pattern that was reflected in the condition of the lawn.
About halfway through laying the path it occurred to me I was writing a poem as much as I was a path. Not an open, wide-ranging "composition by field"; more like a poem in the pattern of H.D. (Hilda Doolittle), William Carlos Williams and Robert Creeley.
The picture above was taken about six weeks ago, before the butterfly bush on the right and the hydrangea on the left came into bloom.
Here, I'll show you:
