literature

Roots

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ruffienne's avatar
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Literature Text

At one point I remember your fear got so bad
you tried pressing yourself into this tree,
a Japanese maple I bought at an antique fair,
potted in a sack, the wood around it hugely old.
Its leaves were green and small, but then, summer—
I told you not to climb it until you got older,
or until you understood age, like the red leaves.
You did until your toes almost grafted,
almost began to drink the wood’s water,
and the leaves sipped the red in you.
Your skin yielded to the bark.
Your hair matted with leaves, tangled
so I unknotted them, telling the straight smooth hair
“Your best roots are your fingers,” they’re worked to the bone,
and strong. Instead, though, you use them
to lunge with at the clouds.
heavy revision. i had no idea what tree i was talking about. plus... stuff. thoughts?
© 2008 - 2024 ruffienne
Comments24
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Synith's avatar
Superb, rather.