Rothsay gardens this evening. I liked the pines standing and reaching out across the road. I liked the white paint against the red brick, the shapes of the gables and chimney pots. I also liked the swirl of the road as it sways around the central island of grass. A man walks a small dog. Cars come and go, and schoolboys too, in conversation, or alone, running back from sports or self-consciously reciting verse. It is tea-time: the evening return to the boarding house. |