Tucker's Garden

The last day of
sadness 
became
a
breeding ground
for
joy

The door
lay
open
as a
burst of
wind
from another
dimension
came
in

My thoughts
of
you
your thoughts
of
me
spun
into
a tornado
like
funnel
spraying
residue
of 
yesterday
and
decades
before
as
holy
relics
called
memories
wavering
tenaciously
across
our
feet

Voices
that have
passed
to the afterlife
sweetly
haunt
our
collective
thoughts

Fainted
cries
of remorse
chain
our
mindfulness

creating
a
script
to 
a living
poetic
verse

She tended
a very
bountiful
country
garden

green peas
tomatoes
butter beans
became
students
of 
her
craft

The kind
words
she left
me 
still influence
the navigation
of
my ethics

Never spoke
ill
will
of no one

She took my
cross
in 
every prayer
she made

I live
now
in confidence
because
of
words
spoken
long
ago
while
tending
to
the tucker's
garden