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In the Garden
by
Chaya Rosen

 
In the Garden

Come here he whispers
wine color curls
cover him
like a forest

Come here you are alone
trembling leaves wrap
her pine scented legs
from a recent fall

Come here we will bear
sweet tasting fruits
to lift our burdens
for being alone

Come here she recoils
earth is saturated
shadows swell
seeds of decay

He weeps she is silent
earth turns barren
no one heard
of them again
--Submitted by Chaya on 2013-04-17.
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