Allotment Moment

Look at that sky,
She said, pointing high above
So together we looked up at the untouchable ceiling
Of darkening blues and roses awash with dusk
White wisps of plane tails and spindly purple clouds interweaving
Over our upturned faces
And for a moment as I looked up at the sky
That moment was all that existed
This middle-aged stranger
With her yellow plastic watering-can
and me with my silver aluminum can
Staring out over empty allotment shed-tops and fruit trees
United by the smell of freshly dug soil
And a pink blushed half globe