Pulling Weeds

The sea garden grew
In remains of weathered stone,
And Paupa pulled weeds,
Tending to the past.

But in the corner of a crashing wave
A lost child watched
Sea oats bobbing
Silly.

After much care in remove, death’s
Bloom stood alone.
But madness in a child is lush
With the growth of discontent.

     The sea garden grew
     Around the weathered stones
Strong, like death’s dark bloom,
     But only the child knew.

Standing in a dally of vacant thought
The foreigner watched the keeper
Pull the weeds that grew deeper
Than an old man’s preening ought.
 

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