knittingknots (knittingknots) wrote,
knittingknots
knittingknots

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Poem: Backyard Zen

Backyard Zen

Too mellow to move,
I contemplate my turnips,
the everyday earthy things,
peas climbing up their trellis,
the smell of the compost pile,
the feel of the sun.

What is reality, really?
Everyday,
the sweep of fabric over skin
as we move,
the taste of coffee in the morning
fatigue at night.

The games we play
to disguise the fact
that when we’re hungry, we eat,
when we’re thirsty, we drink,
and at the end of the day,
we sleep.
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