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Seed

Dec 18, 2017 | Poetry

I knew him

you did too

the silly kid with a chipped tooth

and gnarly hair

 

He stood over there

A houseplant

 

sowed from stale air

and a wet bed

 

From streams of sun

seeping through

the thickened foliage

of our cluttered home

 

It penetrated

delicate layers of his pale skin

until he was different

 

We tried to prune him

 

I rotated his jar

so he would always point

toward the son

I never was

 

Somehow he maintained his shape

and left us

standing alone

 

You and I

green-thumbed

in our fickle garden

(To hear this piece performed to music, please visit my SoundCloud link here https://soundcloud.com/user-279788833/seed)

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© Richie Smith 

© Richie Smith