The nursery, a poem.

You uprooted me from the clay pot

in which I had grown comfortable

and beautiful.

You took me home on your SUV

where I lost a few leaves

and some glamour.

On your patio I hung out for a good week

barely fed, until you decided to plant me.

Only digging a hole wasn’t that easy

you’ve gotta ‘call before you dig’.

You struggled with East or South

to finally settle on North East

or a place in between

Where I could be planted

and grow my roots, if only a bit

before the freeze.

Such is life with its twists and turns

if you are flexible it will have you bend

if you are not it will see you break

Such is change with its taste for loss

for leaving behind habits and friends

and creating uncertainty where none has been.

And the clouds of fog that reside in my brain

shall lift with the winter and help me grow

new roots

new friends, new habits, new trails to walk

new flowers to plant, new love to cultivate

and a new life to raise, in the nursery

that is my heart

our garden

and her room

all the same.

By tuttysan © 2008

The nursery – a poem. Photo: Japanese Maple.

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