Compost

Bad old days…
toss those on the pile
bury them in coffee grounds
decorate them with chicken poo
turn them in and watch them rot.

Wait a while…
let go and forget them
watch steam curl from the bin
as shapes change and disappear
old words dying so new ones can breathe.

Pull them fresh
from the homogeneous heap
scatter them across the new garden
dig them into trenches for fresh green life
see how they feed and grow and become what they always were.

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About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in Free verse, Gardening, love, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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