Another Reddit writing prompt, albeit in poetic form which I do more frequently. I don’t know how I feel about this one.
For as long as I care to remember
I’ve tended this garden
of ours, at one time
overgrown with daffodils
orchids, lilies and roses.
I’ve watched the sun
on every petal,
painting them warm
after we sowed the seeds
together, the product of our labor
exploding into radiance every spring.
But for a long time, now
it’s just been
me, and the flowers
are one with the mulch.
I guess I must have forgotten
even hope can be false
as I was mixing it into the soil.
Hooloovoo Blues 