How do I start to tell the story?nThe pale stars? The sky's dim glow?nThe clouds that gathered silently above Bookbinder Road?nn& the roses in the garden watched when the moment frozenAs the door to that summer closednnWhere do I continue? With the fullness of the moon?nOr the air that smelled of apples and September coming soon?nnStood on the empty pavement where seagulls dove and rosenAs the door to that summer closednnFinally we settle with the view from a quiet roomnAnd we end the story with the garden still in bloom