Vexation In the Garden
where shall I run
if the dormant grass remains
to prick my bare soles
as I scurry to the other side
in pursuit of this child
whom I would give my very life
though her life may not mirror my own
the string in her hand
that balloon in the sky
seem so simple at sunset
the clouds they agree
not to deter this memory
with rain and fulmination
sunrays gleam and glow even more
the effect weighs heavily upon the skin
no need to compare the present with the past
she trust her mother, her father, and the heavens
the twilight would never lie
but right and wrong can touch tomorrow
and when tomorrow touches her, I pray
it is with hands as gentle as mine
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2017
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