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Bare Tree Behind A Fence

Lifeless now.

Hard beneath the concrete her essence stands, still. 

In decay she feeds Mother Earth

with rough-climbing branches that will never kiss the sun.

I watched her bloom late and root shallow

in a craggy urban foothold.

She taught me to fight the rain,

collect due with outstretched limbs,

snap without bending,

and scrape dust in drought.

She all but shut down to survive

and never went deep enough to hold.

Shoots absorbed with blight,

produced fruit that was untouchable.

Her friends were fences and we, the children

who played around her just outside.

In spring she could light up the sky.

Beautiful, buzzing, humming with promise of growth.

But as time moved

we watched her face fall in anticipated dormancy.

When that bitter winter came,

her hollow rotted structure gave 

and I saw her wither, withdraw, and leave.

Now, I must tend this bitter seed that grows in me.

.

.

(art credit: Bare Tree Behind A Fence by Egon Schiele)

Daily Prompt: Ebb and Flow

 

 

 

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