Their shadows call me
back - those places
where I have lived, where 

my memory ghost-walks
through familiar gardens,
where flower bulbs mix 

with broken glass and bones- 
dog, canary, my unborn child's 
name written on paper, wrapped 

with raffia. Secrets whispered
to the sky change shape
with the clouds, change the patterns

of shadows slipping 
over freshly turned earth.