underbrush

14 Aug

never in a life

though the search

was long

did she believe

that a mountain

could fall in love

with

a tree

so close were the two

it was if the mountain

was impaled

on her very

tree lover

never did she know

(though songs were sung)

that a fox-faced

winged thing would ask

how long have

you been

a healer

with a blackstrap

molasses

voice

no one explained

that love would

be wild berries

on the vine

diverging

rivers

deep caverns

flourishing

with

trust

poppies

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