seeds sprout sow
the very unhappy
love lost
the un-kempt
un-fertilized
loneliness of
sodden rows planted carefully
that fail to burst no matter the care
tended
tendrils  from the next
row
creep  in
to loose upon the soils
a magnum opus somehow someday
becomes roots
becomes the next day's soil
the next world's
good  
a next field
open