All Yours (a weed poem)

asking someone else to

pull your weeds

takes away the seeing of how shallow those roots are

temporary and unrestrained

taking up space

without asking

how can we do this together? no stopping

or pausing

for even the tiniest of moments

to listen slowly

firmly

willingly

they wrap their arms

around everyone else hoarding

soil water air

from those with deeper roots asking someone else to

pull your weeds

takes away your power to pause

for even the tiniest of moments

and discover

your home in all it’s glorious wildness acknowledging

accepting

not apologizing

for being on your knees

with fingers pulling

instead of pointing

Cross Section Reflection

Cross Section Reflection

creating color with celosia

realizing that in just a short lifetime

she grows layers of skin

with space in between

for thirsty pushing

of tentacles

searching for a common place

with space in between

in the hope

of finding a

gold nugget

in the beauty of brown

unexpected

UNEXPECTED

while the sun kisses my back

and light flickers on sweet orange tree leaves

with mice bitten peels spat out

creeping into the soil

teeny tiny spider descended

playing with gravity

and hanging on to a strand of fine grey hair

right in front of my left eye

i belay and gently let her down

next to me and my glasses

propped up on the table

i stop

time flies

she creeps

moving backwards

under the lenses

her distorted body

glowing with fine brown hair

big bulging spider ascended

while the sun kisses my back

and light flickers on sweet orange tree leaves