Tending Garden’s Gate
My Soul Awaits
Published in
Jun 1, 2022
The crimson tear did fall too late.
Like colored leaf from an October tree.
The moist breeze did take me from you.
Your eyes still see spring greenery.
Summers drought I could not bear.
While you tend your flowers bloom.
Shadows dance my brook did drip.
Your lack of care looming.
So I share the petal’s soil.
Your gardens glove caressing.
