Each day since she has been gone, 
there’s been an installation outside Heather’s place. 
Today it is two plants. 
The Happy Plant is wilting, but the succulent is happy. 
Would it be weird if I watered it? 
I never even spoke to her 
                                                                         and it’s meant to rain tomorrow.


At Campos I chase the sun. Through the window I see Ian and Helen, 
the King and Queen of the Community Garden. 


They are with their dog, a Pomeranian I think. 
Dressed in a Carlisle sweater this morning. 
The dog that is, and Helen is holding it under her arm like a handbag. 


It’s getting colder now. 
That time of year when the heat of the day huddles in the middle
away from the edges, and when Helen goes to put the dog down, 
her feet shrink from the cold. 
                                                                         The dog’s that is, not Helen’s. 


I am watching them on the window. 
Helen wanders on with the lead and her Pomeranian stops. 
Helen keeps walking 
                                                                         about to lose her slack.