The Gardener’s Daughter

Ev’ry day
A green thumb
In the I -

Only dragons could
Flourish in your garden,
Unless rose’s can secretly fly.

I’ll try
Or I’ll die
Or I’ll cry and I’ll sigh

More than I have
Every tomorrow
Since yesterday.

The days rot away
And your portrait of me
Cracks and corrodes

The queen of spades;
Spayed, the gardener
Of all that fades.

The weeds ask “Why?”
All lie
In false heaps;

The garden is
Perfect, but
The bushes have thorns.

My blood slows
And my heart’s freeze
Every fourth day,

But always May thaw,
Because Rose gardens
Live forever.