you rustle me as long grass,
stirring and scattering
me to grow
in places where I otherwise
would not.
I want to grow a garden for you,
to teach you the beauty of your
nurturing,
to put in colors and leaves and
petals and
fibers
the sunlight-directedness that from
you I have learned,
that perhaps,
when your roots are plucked
and your flowering withered,
you may look to me,
remember the springtime,
and together we might cycle.
_______________________________________________________________
For Davey Morrison’s bio and his two other entries, click here and here.
*Contest entry*
Wilderness Interface Zone 