The Dead Garden

My
Garden of neglect
My
Garden of regret

Divert eyes
Window’s view
Dull stringy
Weedy things

Hardly watered
Barely chatted
No tender care
Fertilizer _bits of air

Father would cry
So should I
For all that grew_
Cucumber and dew

My
Garden of spring
Became summer’s fall
Promises winter’s pall

Skip holidays
No cuddle days
Just jars of thought
Veggies brought

Come spring
Plan anew
Strive to survive
Rhetoric of jive

ay
10/22/09