Another one that came out of following where the rhyme led me...
Overgrown
A symbol of fertility and growth
is fine, if that’s the way you want to live.
This garden’s only fit to harbour ghosts;
a climbing vine to strangle infants with.
A haunting is a solitary thing –
an empty acre, mourning verdant shoots.
But even fallow fields still crave the spring,
and do their best to nurture wilder fruits.
The nettles, with their customary bite,
still tilt their pointed faces to the sun.
The meanest blossom leans towards the light,
the soil is never bare, when all is done.
And every seed that sleeps still craves the spring:
we cannot teach the sky herself to sing.
LM
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| Image via unsplash.com |
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