Bad Poetry Monday

The Rooftop Garden
by [REDACTED]

She sits on red brick alone
Sun and shade her only company
The blossoms track the movement of the sun
and thus she marks the hours, the days
as they pass, one on top of another
until
the final pepper is picked
the last of the marjoram withers
and returns to dust
But the red brick remains
It never changes and it never dies
It sits in silence and waits
It's there again when she greets the equinox anew
She rises from the dirt to bear new life
Again