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Click hereIt rained last night
on this overgrown garden
of forgotten poems,
standing and lying
like mossy headstones,
barely legible, remnants
of desires gone grey,
hopes turned awry,
an occasional insight,
all to be sucked back
into the soft, moist earth.
The sleepy silence
is only broken by
some passing thought's wings.
broke up the block in my brain, TK U MLJ LV NV
Leaves, flowers, grass, trees, MUST die, and form the sod that nurtures next generations. Read them again, Demure.