There's a native fuchsia <br />growing fiercely in the garden <br />where we buried her - near the compost heap <br />nearly eight years ago. <br /> <br />The mattock was leaning by the back door <br />when I brought her home. <br />'I've dug the hole. <br />I won't come down... <br />if you don't mind? ' <br /> <br />I can still see the old towel <br />that covered her soft grey fur <br />and the pink petals <br />you'd scattered at the bottom of the hole.<br /><br />Alison Cassidy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tsipie-sleeps-here/
