You’ve seen me at my worst.
That was my rock garden bottom,
A mistake that almost was.
Which is what I tell us.

That was my rock garden bottom
Blossoming in cracks, moss.
Shoots of limestone and jade grow
In winding vines around the still.

A mistake that almost was
The beginning of a death, barely
Breathing in the sun, flowered.
Piled earth promotes growth

Which is what I tell us,
Yet the colors are muted.
With dust and cool breeze
We plant them all in rows.

08/11/2011

Author's Note: It's somewhat forced in places...I needed to write, but it didn't want to cooperate.

Posted on 08/11/2011
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