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
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
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