Sunday, October 7, 2012

City Garden

This poem is unfinished and unsatisfying, but what the hell...

My Garden

I am a city boy
I do not grow vegetables
I plant seeds of wisdom
To grow fruits of kindness
And make wine of friendship and joy

I wish I had a garden
Of wind and dirt and sun
But instead I have this garden
Which goes wherever I am
When I finish my toil
I will sleep beneath its soil

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