I planted a garden,
Like the ones I used
To run over in my youth,
I figured at this age
That i liked plants.
It took some time
To put it out there,
The fact that I like plants.
I wondered why it
Took me so long to
Realize such a giving
Hobby.
And the garden
I ran across with no
Thought was my Mother's.
How she was toiling
And watching so small,
Her smile stilled in my thoughts.
Her hands full of maternal
Earth, and a hug that
I seem to remember in
Slow motion.
I'm older now,
Enough to know she planted
Those seeds so many years ago.

Flowers bloom
Flowers die
Some are beauty
Such as my

Sweet scented
Wild and alive
Cover pastures
It which we writhe

Gratious,fine
Soft and fair
Unlike those flowers
My daisys better bare

Such is she
The perfect creature
Down to each
Athstetic feature

Nothing she
Is made of true
Would leave the eye
Wanting more from you

My beauty Daisy
Perfect,fair
All I ask
Is that you care
Lovers embrace
Unbroken stare
Bodies press
While we are bare

Every morning he loads a single bullet into his revolver,
He spins the chamber and places the barrel to his skull,
Pulling the hammer back and pulling the trigger in symbiosis.
CLICK
Another day survived.
Some days he isn't so lucky.
BANG
As she fires wrath and rage,his revolver belittles his integrity,he struggles to maintain his cool and leaves.
We tell him playing Russian roulette with a loose cannon is dangerous.
He replies "I love her"
We relate to this vested interest in the notion of affection versus considerable loss of self and wish him luck.