Sunday, June 14, 2015


I weed through the day
pulling away unwanted thistles
that stick to my clothes
I love to garden

I weed away mellow
in my pursuit to tug
unwanted offenders
that crop up everywhere

They are takeovers
our prized plants choked
I feel like a slum lord

1 comment:

  1. Somehow the thistles always find you...such bad luck we humans have.