Saturday, 6 June 2015

Where your tears are tucked

We plant flowers in the spring and tell ourselves that we're not fading. Youthful fingertips press earth against the stems so innocently, without agnising that winter will come and claim it all again. We carve out plots to temporarily tame that which can't ever be truly subdued. Then we sit back and admire the fleeting neatness, until the weeds sneak through and our fingers are too frail to hold them back any longer.

No comments:

Post a Comment