A poem


my library books are overdue, unread.
dishes clutter, counter unwiped.
the letters pile up, a wall building itself.
but I am winding the scent of tomato greens into my hair
rubbing the earth for treasure, listening for bird song and
spatters of rain on broad leaves.
I am slipping into the garden
to celebrate my uncluttered soul.

Alisa Gordaneer

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