This tender conceptual blue net

Friday Poetry is an idea I'm borrowing from Alison.  For my first Friday poem, I've chosen David Malouf's “Moonflowers.” Like all his poems, it's evocative and graceful, never obvious. I especially like the delicacy of the final thought. Though more truthful than the single narrative, sometimes the tender net is a perilous thing to cling to.

Gone and not gone. Is this
garden the one
we walked in hand in hand
watching the moon-
flower at the gate
climb back into our lives
out of winter bones –
decades of round crimped candescent
origami satellite-dishes
all cocked towards Venus?
One garden opens
to let another through, the green
heart-shapes a new season holds
our hearts to like the old.
The moonflower lingers
in its fat scent. We move
in and in and out of
each other’s warmed spaces,
there is
no single narrative.
And we like it that way,
if we like it at all, this
tender conceptual
blue net that holds, and holds us
so lightly against fall.