January 21, 2013


I found fruit taped onto my tree today,
No leaves remain, just an artificial reward
Sour fruit that no one will buy,
Yellowed and round
Alone in the winter wind

Time fell upon itself in the corner
And my garden was neglected.
Yet in between life and conversations
In a space where memories collect
I listen for the birds chirping who daily anticipate spring.

The tree is disappointed
Where water and sun are not enough
Where moist soil is taken for granted
Thirsting for contentment
Clinging to the right to understand

I plant new seedlings
In a spot prepared with love
The soil of victory is sweet
Especially in small pieces
Called today.

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