Friday, March 3, 2023


Roots that dig deep
enough to feel 
the heat of hell,

and tips that reach 
to scrape the diamonds 
undergirding heaven;

appendages which shake, 
bend, and 
quiver themselves to pieces 
with the littlest hint
of oncoming wind, 

yet which always resolve 
to remain spread 
wide open 

and stiff 
in the pose of 
perpetual giving;

but above all, 
a fierce and 
obstinate reluctance 

to admit 
when you've been killed
and abandon your position, 

and just as fierce 
a willingness  

to come back 
to life in six months 
and forgive.

All of this—
and nothing less, 

and all of the time, 
and all of your life—

is what it will take 
if you ever expect,

in spite 
of the callous 
vicissitudes of seasons,

to stand in the dirt—
and the light—
and to live.