This is a Skeletonic poem about my garden, and how I felt during the last little while when I was waiting for the plants to come up.
I sit on my first step
Feeling a bit inept
Little shoots haven’t crept
From the soil’s depth
Will my garden grow?
It’s not for show
I don’t know
Watered to and fro
Scraggly weeds
Plant impedes
Growth from seeds
I pull those weeds!
Get out of there,
I haven’t a prayer
I climb the stairs
Which are bare
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