Tending
They say tears water your soul
yet the garden in me refuses to grow
I keep pulling out flowers before they can bloom
checking for colour before they could show
I should have had enough to hand bouquets
for every hour of every day
and still all I have are dirt stained hands
from digging sand and silt and clay
They say tears water your soul
but now it drowns too much, too soon
and the Sun burns too far, too cold
so nothing can grow that I can hold
25/11/23, 22.29 [that-tired-poet]













