Some Kind of Garden

I am sitting with iced coffee though it's freezing cold outside It's 5 a.m. and I am feeling things I can't describe Though they're coming off as new, they also seem quite old Not in a mediocre way, but more like "where were they before?" I'm thinking things I'd say in New York though I'm now living Upstate Like when you're on a moving bus but feel frozen inside Spoke on the phone with yesterday to talk about today And how tomorrow today will have been yesterday Then I wrote a couple letters to people I won't see again It's always good to have something I've worked on, but never shared So I'll say the things I never said and never will say But that's fine with me - some things are left best unsaid I know nothing about flowers, but these words feel like seeds So I'll plant them in some soil and see how they look in a month I'll water all these memories and just try to make some sense But if they die, that's fine 'Cos in my life, I'd like to have some kind of garden