| I dig trenches all day while she tends her rows. I frantically throw soil while she waits for the seeds to grow. At night I tuck myself into a 6 foot hole. She'll lay in the greenery, delicately exposed. I'll focus on the stars in my earthen window. And she'll dream of landscapes and soft winter snows. The only thing that will draw me out is her sweet song of hope and promises to come. And I'll aproach at the setting of her promised land sun We meet at the edge; she tells me of new life and spring's rebirth. . I tell her of the beauty of sorrow and death. And though we lead seperate lives, I must confess: She is my mind, my heart, and my soul; My ultimate friend, my tue confidant, my polar foe I the insomniac and she the sleeper. Me the grave digger and her the garden keeper |
| This poem was written in juxtapostion between me and one of my best friends, a fellow princess, a person who life would be miserable without. |
| Grave Digger/ Garden Keeper |