Walking in a untidy patch of garden behind my flat in April 2006, I saw this fallen flower atop others. It was the first time I had taken a digital photo of a flower. I opened this folder to cull photos, and did not have the heart to: so many photos of children who are now adults and adults who have died. Opening a decade old folder can be injurious to your health.
Márgarét, áre you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leáves like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! ás the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It ís the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
By Gerard Manley Hopkins