The enormous weed that grows in the corner of our garden
has beautiful fuchsia shoots, white flowers and black berries.
We hacked it down a few times but it returns larger.
We will kill the root when we find other designs for the plot, but until then, it fills the space decoratively,
which is more than we have done.
What you value is your value; what you have to offer,
composed portions of you accrued over time and absorbed into yourself.
You can prove these pieces as yours and deny what others ascribe to you.
Gifts and compliments gather on the threshold,
acceptable and appreciated but not condoned
they wait neglected with their wasted gesture souring with doubt and mounting offense.
Embracing praise at this point impossible,
instead repackage it back to the sender undeserved or not.
We can’t make time, like we say,
we’ll make time for this or that,
instead we use the time given, and we make of it what we will.
