Blue shirt

His blue shirt harks back to  ordinary days
Of walks in  field borders to triangular hills
Fragrant rivers and mystery flower bushes,
An ordinary shirt our men wore in the times
When an ordinary life had still existed and
The bush shirt had not yet come into being.

The  gardener wears the shirt of the sixties
When shirts flowed with detachable buttons.
His blue shirt is a tell-tale tatter of the times
Ordinarily found on stick-and-pot scarecrows
With birds painting the stupid potheads white.