Monday, December 11, 2023

A small thing is growing in the garden today

I say it as simple as water runs
trickling up through my larynx
and popping from my mouth
soft and languid like secrets do
babbling brook declarations
I weaken myself to free

Azure cloudless skies stare back
and I know a tree can't be undecided
roots wrapping around in
one hundred days of growth
not bound to strangle
but tentative reaching

You say it as quiet as rain falls
no meter to the words
but instead actions, like thunder,
ricochet through the halls
bounding full and echoing
I don't need to hear it to see


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