Thursday, July 7, 2011
Gardens and flowers were always
abundant in childhood, but so were weeds.
To a child who wanted to play, read, make-believe,
too many weeds needed to be pulled,
the child often feeling like a weed herself,
never right or quite good enough or acceptable,
no matter how diligently she strived or
how many weeds were culled.
Oh, just to be a plant, no category,
allowed to be one's self and grow and
thrive where planted.
All have green thumbs in
(Posted for BlueBell books, Week 5 Short Story Slam, 7/7/11 - they also supplied the image/inspiration.)
(Also posted for One Single Impression #184, "Weed", 9/4/11)