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Click heresilky pond pebbles poured and placed
over black mud--the plants cough, tremble and wither
never sure if the problem is too much or too little
sunshine, drowning in polluted waste water
now they smile as we scream, prosper as we perish
the water sits stagnate, the sun settles beyond our grasp.
cover me with a dusky blanket of dirt, plant a tree
inside the empty, gardenias in my eye sockets, tulips
in my gaping mouth, my outstretched arms, palms cupped
fingers stiffened ‘round bulbs that may never bloom.
Suggestion:
the water sits stagnant; the sun settles beyond our grasp.
Five.
Grim stuff. I love the gardening/armageddon theme, but I would never have put it together myself, but you've done it well.