Garden Seeks a Gardener

Words sprout in a garden of verse,

awaits a gardener to

prune the prose;

prune the poem.

A brick wall separates

me from the garden

I stand outside,

words like vines

curl into the wall:

a tangled curtain.

The computer screen

The notebook page

The Wall

All

Blank

Empty

I search pots and planters,

separate vine from stone;

seek the lost key

while the page stays empty.

As the beauty

of my garden fades.

The search held once

now slows and stagnates

until the garden is nothing

The computer screen

The notebook page

The Wall

All

Blank

Empty