In this temple, open to the air,
I feel you everywhere.
These Doric Columns speak of our yesterday.
But you will stay
When I and they
Are but clay.
These ancient Yew
And Redwood trees
Have heard wind sing
Over long centuries.
But your cold blast
Will outlast the Yew.
—
This poem stems from a visit to the temple of Aeolus in Kew Gardens with my friend Brian on 29 September 2023. You can find out a little about the temple here, https://www.kew.org/kew-gardens/whats-in-the-gardens/woodland-garden-and-temple-of-aeolus.
I love this one.
Thank you, Vivienne. I’m delighted that you love this poem.