One more hug

Whisked and whirled
My hair wraps itself
In spirals held by the wind’s grasp.

Tendrils like tree roots
Mighty tree roots fall around my shoulders holding my head up to see
Ground eye level.

As I walk and talk, do they know I’m a tree stump?
Wading through the Yielding soil
I have no missing parts.

A once tall tree now toppled.
Me, not me.
I am the old resilient part
The part not toppled
But held.
Fast to the soul and soil
I remain.


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