• in defense of my overgrown weeds •
a haiku collection
Today I stared as
my parents tore the weeds from
our backyard garden
Flowers are long dead
this time of year but the weeds
remain, silently
Resilient to rain
stubborn in the scorching sun
firm against nature
The weeds do not wilt
under the scrutiny of
dismissive people
The weeds know their worth
as medicine and vessels
for all the many
wistful whispered hopes
‘he loves me. he loves me not.’
our wishes are theirs
No, I do not want
to be like our red tulips
long dead from the cold
I wish to become
like the overgrown weeds in
my small dirt garden
– s.k. ♥
November 13, 2017
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