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Mar 2015
I've pruned the edges of my garden, but
when all still wilts, withers, and dies
I plant myself anew.

I pat clods of dirt between the crevices of my ribcage
and nestle a seedling in the cavity
of my heartspace.

Perhaps something lovely
will grow there
someday.
Amanda Miller
Written by
Amanda Miller  Pennsylvania
(Pennsylvania)   
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