The Work

I see a mess

The garden is weed

Rocks sit as innocent as icebergs

They create infertility and broken backs

But there is no other space

And sustenance must be procured

One weed

One stone

One rock at a time

They must be destroyed

removed

vanquished

crushed or banished

It starts slowly

Painfully

The overwhelm of where to start causes procrastination

But there is nothing to fear

You can start where you stand

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