Gardening Poem by Ann Mckeeman

Gardening



…walking down the paths of my heart…
i find no pause, in the stony garden there….
nor roses scenting the air…
but…
…there are thorns..
grown close and thick..
..and my skin knows their sharp caress..
…they bloom…swelled and fruitful ….
from the tears in my soul.
..watered always by my essence leaking from wounds-
…old and new….

Sunday, January 18, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: reflection
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Ann Mckeeman

Ann Mckeeman

westbrook, maine
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