Unloved Garden

by Chani Zwibel / July 28th, 2019

The garden falls dark.
Boot prints leave their mark.
No one pulls the weeds.
No one plants new seeds.
Uncaring strangers pass,
Strewing plastic bags and glass.
Cheap flags bought for a dollar,
Waved once then dropped to squalor,
Lie among trash heaps
In the patches no one keeps.
Heavy boots crush every bloom.
The garden only grows gloom.
One bird call trills overhead
One last cry not yet dead.

Chani Zwibel is a graduate of Agnes Scott College, a poet, wife and dog-mom who was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but now dwells in Marietta, Georgia. She enjoys writing poetry after nature walks and daydreaming. Read other articles by Chani.

This article was posted on Sunday, July 28th, 2019 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.