June 20 by The Running Son
··• eaɼth •··
My trunk is the ringed one between
two branchings. Before sun sets,
I leave down, soft to ground, feeding
soils and spicing breath, coiling upward
and leaving newly seasoned earth
to foam, a moss of stars, a birth.
by Jim Aldrich (:
.namaste. -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •- .namaste.