My mind is toss up in word salad
Mixed with fresh herbs, my "baby" plants
are rooting nicely with tiny buds & thirsty roots
My fingers are forks, raking down to remove
dead leaves and fading summer blossomes
Autumn arrives with first harvest
Wild crab apples, plentiful for the squirrels & birds
I inhale warmth of dying sunset, orange-crinkled sky
(my pack of oranges are not so sweet)
My red roses, still blooming, second chances, i
Will always take, wearing a mask
Pixellated, stripes of black & white
My chest a garden of hopes, basketball hoops & hoses
Optimistic as red fat sweet tomatoes
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Stream of Consciousness Poem. Please join us when the pub door opens at 3pm EST.
