THE GARDENER
Claire Sullivan
I am planting a garden. It is nestled in my spirit where earth and body align, woven together by the synapses of my mind. With sanitized shears, I snip the dead ends Letting them fall to the Earth, where they become life again. The invasive species which have taken up my mind, I pull from the roots, leaving nothing behind. The thoughts in my head that I love the most, I snip at the node to propagate those. I fill it with natives, the thoughts of my own Sowed from contemplation, I give each a home. My garden will falter and droop. Not all species will survive But with some water and sun, it will once again thrive.
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