In my garden I grow fresh hours
As others might grow verdant flowers
I harvest fresh bouquets of seconds
To hang about as summer beckons
My minutes are coming in a bit small
Ground cuckoo fertilizer to make them tall
Though you say my garden is a waste of my time
I’ll keep my precious moments in green and rhyme
Sunday, May 11th, 2014
Daily Archive
May 11, 2014
From “The Garden of Time” by Fredie Gotman
Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: fiction, hours, minutes, poem, poetry, seconds, story, time |Leave a Comment