Within the black, warmless earth
Sop-full and cloy
Firm tendril tips
Digger, runner,
Around, over, in
On such as these grey hearts sink
The dead brown, wood brown, stalk brown
Morphing in death
From life above green
Rigid in spined pricks
Eternal soporific darkness drowns the spirit
Forever on, up, out
Each to set air
Softer arms bear a younger one
Small and pink baby
Pushing back the wintry wind
For all that sex implies
A hand, held from above, an upwelling
It is alone,
But upon only these petals
Summer calls
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