Pills
Pills.
Like a dried out lawn.
With weeds and a broken birdbath.
Growling.
With hands or without.
Needing medication.
Like teetering on a snowbank.
Avalanche.
Pills.
A shopping cart filled with broken chairs.
There’s no one except a lawnmower.
No one lives here.
Pills.
Tugging at my sleep.
With a broken birdbath in my sleep.
Pills.
They aren’t the spidery kind.
They’re the gracious sight
My own hands.
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