A Modest Request

when i grow old and weary,
legs all atremble,
unable to walk far—

and my garden,

oh, the delightful color,
the delicate shapes,
the delicious scent—

when my garden

is too far to see,
then please,
if you will,
bring my garden to me.
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Published on November 05, 2018 04:21 Tags: caregiver, gardens, old-age
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