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Poem-a-Day

The Garden

The Garden

 

 

For the first time in weeks

I walk out to the garden.

 

It surprises me to find there 

are still things growing here,

 

rooted in the earth but forsaken, 

like people on a road somewhere.

 

They don't know this road. 

They've never walked it before.

 

I was the one set them upon it

and now I've abandoned them.

 

When I drive past they wave 

vaguely, having given up hope

 

someone will stop and take them

wherever they're going.

 

But then, in a sudden reversal,

I realize I'm the one walking,

 

wishing I could go

wherever they're going. 

 

 

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