Thursday, February 22, 2018

Failed Starts

Eighteen or maybe twenty
small pots on the hearth
The brown of the dirt
the same as the shadows
on this cloudy February day
Failed starts, she said
and I did not ask
if onions or herbs
flowers or food
For it should not matter
what doesn't work
in our lives
And yet more often
a life is defined
by the claims
that don't pan out
the investments
in love
that don't ripen
that don't yield
the hoped-for return
than it is
by the sweet successes

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