Gardener
Early in the morning,
the skeleton gardener
plucks a sprig of lavender,
the sound of bone on bone
from between his fingers
softened by the delicate purple buds,
dusty, crumbling a little,
as index meets thumb.
Early in the morning,
the skeleton gardener
plucks a sprig of lavender,
the sound of bone on bone
from between his fingers
softened by the delicate purple buds,
dusty, crumbling a little,
as index meets thumb.