left unsaid, the words settle between the sofa cushions,
wrapped in a dust bunny under the table, the unsaid pulls
slightly down on what could have been a smile, maybe a
tear occasionally leaks out, quickly brushed aside.
words that speak volumes of hurt feelings, grief, loss,
those of anger often escape, if not into the dendritic
depression that spreads across a cold windshield on a bleak
winters day, words leak out like water from a soaker hose
on a dry Arizona garden, seeking their fertile ground and seeds
that will grow under their tutelage.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
1 comment:
Seeds grow hardy in Arizona when tended by those with loving hands and a kind soul. Each seed is like a freckle made both hardy and sweet by the tears of those who care.
Post a Comment