gardening as a full time profession

all i ever
managed to plant
in the garden
in the heartshaped plot
was a mess of
tangled roots
like vipers
no matter how
hard i toiled
to till the soil
the sparrows came
to pluck the seeds
leaving naught
but barren earth
my shoulders in
gordian knots
as i bemoaned
my hands knowing
only how to kill

sipping coffee
as the dirt blew
the nutrient bereft
earth finding life
in other gardens
while my patch
dark as pitch
sat desolate
forgotten by time
i watched
through the warped
glass window
as the sun rose
every morning
hoping to see
one verdant sprout
a sign of growth

a hobbyist gardner
unable to force growth
through best intention
producing dust devils
of stinging grit
bereft of ability
to get a single seed
to take root
in the salted earth
of dreams gone bitter

until she found me
and the wildflowers
in her smile
found purchase
in this dirge of
hopeless pining
filling the yard
with peony blossoms
that took over
the morning view
terraforming the garden
into a rustling field
where joy could
flourish once more
and now i kneel
carefully crooning
to the dancing petals
watering each new growth
with the gentle tears
of happiness undreamt

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