The Poetry Corner

when i was born

a tiny seed was planted 

in a bare, brown, 

dry patch of ground 

the tiny seed sprouted into a little flower

a flower i grew sentient to maintain 

and the flowers eventually became a flower patch 

as i grew older and the need for more was attained 

soon i had plants and bushes 

and a little garden commenced 

it wasn’t grand by any means 

but i had my own little flowers, my own picket fence 

i saw others far off, 

fenced in their own beautiful gardens 

giving flowers away 

collecting petals to admire

and receiving a partner to tend their own garden with 

and i wanted to do the same 

i saw others walking by 

passerby’s that could’ve made good tenders 

and i would pick a precious flower 

and follow after them, hoping it would convince them to stay 

but when i chased 

my flowers weren’t watered 

and my garden wilted 

and my plants got sick

and i didn’t realize until i came back to pick one more flower, 

to follow one more suitor, 

that i found i had no more flowers left to give 

i missed the beauty 

and the smell of the petals 

so i built up a tall fence and a heavy gate 

and i tended to my garden and my flowers and my plants 

until the green rose into the sky 

and the flowers bloomed like blotches of paint; 

naples yellow and prussian blue and vermillion red 

and one day 

someone opened the gates to my lovely little garden 

and he said, 

“hello. 

i couldn’t help but notice your garden, 

and i wanted to meet the gardener. 

do you mind if i come in?”