3
January 19, 2008
do not look upon me
in this untended state
grown over
with regret
rampant with cynicism
with unbridled bitterness
in this winter season
of dormant bloom
waning hope
my color has all faded
gone to random hues of grey
the faintest blush of tint
like the cushioned adirondacks
abandoned on the deck
left exposed
too many seasons
brittle
tattered
faded
uncomfortable and unwelcoming
there were seasons
long ago
they embraced laughter
the excitement
of precious friends
once
this garden echoed joy
bloomed long
full and fresh
petals
berries
fruit and leaf
hung heavy
urgent with essence
bursting with life
but biting winds have blown
chill rains fell
rude sun
relentless
in harsh insistence
the suffocating snows
caretakers of the garden
have lost regard
season by season
year by year
misplaced
the tools that nurture
no longer sought
desire wilted
like this scarcely tended plot
too frequent
cruel indifference
haphazard care
dieing embers of concern
like fire
in the great hearth
no longer fed
or gathered round
ignored
no laughter rises
no faces lighted
no warm encounters
passing in the hallway
mumbling over breakfast
no warm encounters
400-thread-count passion
a dieing ember
no longer fed
the hearth grows cold
unwelcoming
chill winds of apathy
prevail
unwelcoming — this garden
grown over with regret
choked by weeds of discontent
from years of withheld love
and failed attention
the untended garden withers
its ember of life
dieing
Wonderful imagery – I can completely relate. Really love this:
‘like the cushioned adirondacks
abandoned on the deck
left exposed
too many seasons’
Also:
‘caretakers of the garden
have lost regard
season by season
year by year
misplaced
by julia January 21, 2008 at 7:11 amthe tools that nurture’
this is great because it looks inside, yet does not overdue the imagery
by Sparky Duck January 21, 2008 at 8:05 amOoh, that’s lovely. Sad, too; I went through a period where this described me.
That’s probably why I’m looking to see what happens when it’s time to weed the garden and tend it again. Is it the same, or has it changed irreparably?
by Susan Helene Gottfried January 21, 2008 at 8:23 amvery cold!
by artpredator January 21, 2008 at 8:46 pmshivers down my back..
It will pass..
by gautami tripathy January 22, 2008 at 6:58 amthis is sad, I hope someone ressurects the garden
by Crafty Green Poet February 29, 2008 at 3:38 amdesire wilted
like this scarcely tended plot
quite lovely, a soft, lilting rhythm that is at once haunting and charming
by Cary Rant March 2, 2008 at 7:10 am