And shadows cast in garden’s green,
Belie shades of other selves,
Broken in,
Worn, like shedded skin.
In the garden of the soul,
There are flowers, that bloom,
In the shadow of hands,
Reaching out…
Tender in their yearning,
Careful not to bruise,
These petals, in their prying.
And they…
The flowers…
Open, in the dapple.
*** Cover art by Ash from Modern Afflatus on Unsplash.
We’re looking for more short stories, poems and essays. If you’ve got some and aren’t shy to share it with the world, please drop us an email at editors@eksentrika.com. Oh, do read our Submission Guidelines first. Here’s another poem you might enjoy.
