No matter where I tread

Or how high I lift my feet

Stinking piles block the way

Some are very deep.

I don't bother stepping over

No left, right, in-between

There'll be a new one in it's place

So hard to keep things clean.

Shoveling all day and night

Trying to make it through

These landmines of emotions

Left behind by you.

The plot I tilled and furrowed

I planted seeds of hope

All that's left are piles

of memories, now compost.

Mildewing with mushrooms

Worms and centipedes

Festering and rotting

Along with all my dreams.

The ones I planted for us both

For I thought they were yours too.

Now I'm left with all these piles

Should I plant anew?

Tho never will I think again

That love for sure will grow

Love sometimes will root and blossom

Sometimes the field lies fallow.

 

2019