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The Gardener
April 8, 2019
Walking through
The vines brush against my skin
Each plant standing tall
Blossoming, growing, reaching for the sun
Something was missing in the vines of peace
The gardener was gone
No longer able to tend to the plants
One would think without the gardener, how will the plants survive?
The funny thing is
Everything remained the same
It flourished
The flowers bloomed with passion
Enriching my lungs with each breath I take
Even in death there is so much life to appreciate
I know this now
Thanks to the gardener
© Sara B., Agawam, MA
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