How I Got Here
I seem a sharp spiked bit of plant
a seed stuck on a flannel shirt ride for thirty years
exotic invader without direction
ever on the move farther and farther from my roots
unable to loosen my fierce attachment
put down new roots and bloom on my own
at last I look from this flowerpot at a foreign scene
can only hope my chosen vehicle
remembers to water me
sounds like your seed is an exile too!
ReplyDeletenice capsule-poem
Water is all so important. Depending on others sometimes is crucial.
ReplyDeleteWow, this is so important. Your travels have been many but that seed blooms in places I'm not sure you are aware of. You are the master gardener!
ReplyDeleteYou write so well. Please describe my soul pangs once more.
ReplyDelete