We’re making a garden,
Constructing planters from scrap wood
And furniture I made poorly
Although I meant well
And worked with love In my heart.
I will pry it apart
And make a thing infinitely simple
And more useful:
A place for things to grow,
A means of nourishing you.
5 thoughts on "Distancing #1"
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I like everything about this poem, Matt.
damn. i felt this
Ohhhhhhhhh. This one’s nice!
This tugs at the heart strings; very relatable and very well done.
I love this love poem!