Grandmother’s Garden

you were a flower
in the middle of a wasteland
where things refused to grow

fighting to stay alive
even when the weather got harsh
you resisted and flourished

creating a garden
you watched as the fruits of your labor
created lives of their own

and once you saw that they were done
you laid your tired head down
and decided it was time to go

now we are the flowers
growing in a garden
that was once a wasteland

*photo courtesy of

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Freelance Writer and Social Media Consultant. Aspiring West Coaster.

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