“the garden”

there was a garden right behind my house

a little glasshouse with no heating

it belonged to no one

there were pots of herbs and bags of dirt

no flowers

 

for long I grew sage and parsley

they filled the house with earthliness

the palm-sized pots lined orderly on the table

they all grew towards the same direction for the sun

I cut them almost to the root every few months

 

somehow some daisies sprouted

on a broken pot I abandoned on the ground

one day I saw the snowy petals

teasing the room with purity

so I tore them all down

 

 

some summers ago I got a gift of seeds

pansy and jasmine in white cotton bags

I thought the garden could use some colors

the sweetness of jasmine was a midsummer dream

the pansy never bloomed

 

then I fell in love with flowers

red roses out of them all

I planted them everywhere

in all the pots I could spare

then a storm came and it broke the roof

 

the cold replaced the earthly scent

but it did not kill the rosy buds

I plucked the regal roses out

and I snapped the thorny stems in half

the pedals like autumn leaves on the ground

 

the next spring I cleaned out the garden

no more herbs or flowers

there were just empty pots all around

soil untouched

seeds unlived

 

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