5 NOVEMBER 2005, Page 49

The Secret Garden

Why did we go there after dark To carve our initials in the bark, Why was daylight not for us But bittersweet and dangerous?

Why did the innocence of trees Bring my conscience to its knees, Why was a vacant starless sky Our coverlet or canopy?

Why did we touch then stand apart Like twin halves of a broken heart, Why did the knife fall to the ground So guiltily without a sound?

Why did you cry out, turn and run As if ashamed at what we’d done, Why was the cut we made so deep? Why can neither of us sleep?

John Mole