I dig up the dirt
you’ve planted me into;
stepping on dandelions
and daffodils.

Courting the weeping willow,
as it please you.

But I have:
a shovel,
and the broken heart necessary to grow

New love.

And no matter which way the wind blows,
let’s be good friends until the end of time.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *