Old soil, New roots

I carry old things

like pressed lilies.

They no longer bloom,

yet they remember my name.

This morning,

I planted daisies

in my garden.

They bloom well,

as I lean close and tell them my name.

Because loving the new

is not a betrayal of the old.

It just means

my heart learned

to walk forward

carrying the soil

it once grew from.

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