The Garden

The Stories In Between

Dangling on the wrong side of yesterday
Searching for what I never had, within what’s left
Waiting for meaning in sun-bleached tomorrows
That never come
I wait, fading into times of solitude, obscurity
Trembling hands penetrate the earth
Digging a place for these hollow seeds
Sowing the indifference of days past
And those yet to come
But sometimes a breeze will blow
Hard enough to remind me
There’s something more beyond this
Empty plot where nothing new grows
Walled in, to protect the fragile, fertile soil
Buried memories, one-by-one, the regret
Never deep enough to contain their regrowth
But that’s okay, I suppose, there’s a reason for it all
In time I may understand, the way things grow
Within, beyond our control
As I wait for springtime and the possibility of new life
From the old, as the words drip from my mouth
To nourish these sentiments
That may one…

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