Between brushwood & yellowed walls, she tends
wild daisies peeking with eyes like hers, old.
A mulberry tree stands guard. She pretends
spring is soft as she pulls out weeds so cold.
Grey clouds saunter above crisscrossed railings
Where this garden hides, a man ascetic
watercolors artlessly 'til ailings
turned his canvas madly poetic.
Her knees dig for moist in dry soil, here lies
seeds, wrinkled & wind-shaken. Her unclean
fingers gather mulched brown leaves under skies
piling layers, an altar. Her heart mean
as whiskey is now crystal. Blue instead
of red, she buries it 'neath thorny bed.
Artist: Vandy Massey
Posted for: Poets United ~ Mid-week Motif- Hearts~ Thanks for the visits ~