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Verdant Garden


They come in the guise

of what is vibrant, alive, whole,

but thoughts are of what is dead,

of the past, of the reductions

of memory, of pain and pleasure

buried in tombs of fear and want.

Listen just to your thoughts

and you will be but a grinning skull

adorning the verdant garden

all about you, the garden too

inside your skull, if only

you see through the empty sockets

of your I’s ever blooming.


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One Comment
  1. grevilleacorner permalink

    wonderful! 😉

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