Many trees, each unique:
strong, weak, short, tall,
some old and falling down.
some old and falling down.
Trunks, leaves, branches:
some falling off,
still bleeding.
Roots exposed:
some poking sprouts struggling
against the wound of the ax.
Some sprouts will grow:
reaching toward the sky
living, breathing, free.
Growing upward
yet connected to the earth
close to their roots.
"Still bleeding" touches me as does "roots exposed."
ReplyDeleteYour words are like the sprouts: "living, breathing, free."
Are you a fan of Robert Frost by any chance? I saw some of his poetry on the subway the other day, and you seem to be walking a similar "inner landscape." I want to know his work more. And yours!
Thanks Alice - it is nice to have someone aprreciate the poem!!
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