Interred or Planted


Did you burn against me?

I’ve read your words,

Your confusing medley.

So ready to sell me off,

Or chop me down.



I walked where you gave me

Your land, your soil.

The grass knew my bare feet

The blades cut my song

Into bone.


Wet hair,

I fled like a maniac, laughter

Flowed like tears, hysteria

I chased the morning after

With ten more years

Of barefoot races.



And lone by your design.

Thorns can’t blame the rain

But beauty always intertwined

The downpour, or I

Would lay down blind


Under your dark earth.

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