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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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