Blogging & Poems, My Poems, My Writing Challenges

I’ll Be Honest,

 

Weeds are meant to be pulled. Their wide, twine roots,
boxing everything else in. It all takes so little time, the
swarm, they take over. I struggle with the beautiful
ones, negotiate their responsibility, and end up pulling
them up anyway. Guts and roots. A brutal cycle. Like
us in a snow storm, all fear: cloth on white.

 

August 2014_Poem 5_I'll Be Honest

 

August 5, 2014, MLT

 

 

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