Fertile Mud
I gasp, for cluttered words dissolve,
clasping at fear for an unknown resolve.
The heartbeat's drummer is out of sync,
reduced to what emotions think.
Yet in the mighty realm of hope,
there lies an outstretched cord of rope,
in which to save from tears' great flood,
and flourish a garden with fertile mud.
7-23-2022
Copyright © Juliet Ligon | Year Posted 2022
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