The GardenerA Poem by JRHas the process already begun? thin gray vines, working their way into my house through the plumbing they push thicker and insistent through the ducts, they want my furnace to choke they want to fill my walls and my basement push my foundation off its base thicker, gray turns brown, brown to black twelve months, the vines are a riot within all this time spent thinking I was the gardener when it turns out I was the garden © 2019 JR |
Stats
21 Views
Added on December 27, 2019 Last Updated on December 27, 2019 |

Flag Writing