Poem: Lazy is the Gardener

Poem: Lazy is the Gardener

Lazy Is The Gardener Poem

The door I had left open
allowed a kink of darkness
caressing the stone floor
to enter unannounced
it grew as the sun sailed
toward the horizon’s salty hue
sitting carelessly in the floral
worn edged armchair
a single mislaid finger
met with the evocative
kink which slithered
and lingered untrue

Luminous the connection
unconscious I needed
protection, my heart sank,
waterlogged,
stumps were all that remained
following the destruction

I was sorry. I had no one
to blame.