The Garden
For the first time in weeks
I walk out to the garden.
It surprises me to find there
are still things growing here,
rooted in the earth but forsaken,
like people on a road somewhere.
They don't know this road.
They've never walked it before.
I was the one set them upon it
and now I've abandoned them.
When I drive past they wave
vaguely, having given up hope
someone will stop and take them
wherever they're going.
But then, in a sudden reversal,
I realize I'm the one walking,
wishing I could go
wherever they're going.