Exotic butter-gold spread thickly over
tufted green, the discarded ginkgo garment
lies like a surreal shadow across my path
and up over the gentle incline that is
also river bank. I resist the temptation
to gather armfuls of riches, leave the real,
but take the memories with me, following
the watercourse home. And here I catch my breath
as the wealth confronts me. The rich butter-gold
of fatsia japonica’s fingers reach
out through the evergreen to beckon me in;
welcome me home with a carpet of gold; cloak,
bridge, to the incubator where I still grow.