All summer I heard them br rustling in the shrubbery, br outracing me from tier br to tier in my garden, br a whisper among the viburnums, br a signal flashed from the hedgerow, br a shadow pulsing br in the barberry thicket. br Now that the nights are chill br and the annuals spent, br I should have thought them gone, br in a torpor of blood br slipped to the nether world br before the sickle frost. br Not so. In the deceptive balm br of noon, as if defiant of the curse br that spoiled another garden, br these two appear on show br through a narrow slit br in the dense green brocade br of a north-country spruce, br dangling head-down, entwined br in a brazen love-knot. br I put out my hand and stroke br the fine, dry grit of their skins. br After all, br we are partners in this land, br co-signers of a covenant. br At my touch the wild br braid of creation br trembles.