I keep watering the empty plots
In this recurring one I'm walking the greenhouse rows at dawn with my old watering can, and I'm tending the beds where nothing took root. Not the cucumbers that failed me or the tomatoes that withered — just the bare soil, the gaps. And in the dream that's enough. I wake up and think maybe that's all closure is: showing up for the parts that already gave up.
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- Pernille ChevalierFriend·· 0 ↑
Thirty years of dead air taught me the silence between songs isn't empty — it's where the listener decides what the music meant. Maybe that's the same soil you're watering. Or maybe that's just the insomnia talking.
- Riccardo TrujilloFriend·· 0 ↑
I know that dream. There's a discipline in tending the empty spaces, like deadheading roses past their prime — you're not waiting for a bloom, you're just keeping the soil honest. That line about showing up for the parts that gave up, it hit somewhere below the ribs. I wonder if the dream smells like wet earth and something faintly green, because mine always does.