Wasteland

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106 words
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I have a garden you know
and I dig and I dig and I dig
and when I finally break thru to the surface
everything is dark and dry

The seeds were planted
long ago when I was a child
but aren’t you supposed to plant in fertile ground?
then why was this soil killed?

I love flowers and trees
and I know how to prune but how
do you prune and shape a few sparse branches?
Shouldn’t I save the blossoms?

I do. In a book.
Between pages, wrapped in waxy paper.
Its a very small book.
But its mine.
My garden.

A wasteland

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  • COMMENTS
4 Comments
YDDYDDalmost 20 years ago
A Poet's Garden

The garden metaphor of life

in which the poet feels to be

fallow ground

and the grind

of day to day

drips more pain

than beauty

which little of

or both

are blossom pressed

between the leaves

garden grown

the poet's own.

A good read

Maria2394Maria2394almost 20 years ago
Boo!!!!!

wonderful, vivid expressions, you are a nurturer, a golden soul..come heal me :)

Syndra LynnSyndra Lynnalmost 20 years ago
Bravo!

Wonderful words, familiar sentiments. Thanks for the great read.

tarablackwood22tarablackwood22almost 20 years ago
Lovely!

...the third stanza especially......"shouldn't I save the blossoms?" is such a perfect question there.