We all grow into
forests one day,
songbirds in our branches
and children hopping from
root to root shrieking and
our toes will still know the earth.
This is certain:
the sun rises, magenta and
orange at seven oh two
am on the dot and
the gala apples are
ripe red and round in
our fists, fingers.
The air we breathe is
entirely composed of stories
and it settles around our ankles like
fresh spring mulch
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
We all grow into
forests one day,
songbirds in our branches
and children hopping from
root to root shrieking and
our toes will still know the earth.
This is certain:
the sun rises, magenta and
orange at seven oh two
am on the dot and
the gala apples are
ripe red and round in
our fists, fingers.
The air we breathe is
entirely composed of stories
and it settles around our ankles like
fresh spring mulch