6.14.2018

I asked the root family

for forgiveness this morning,

the one’s that I dove deep

into, trailing every last noodle

to their safe places beneath

rocks and ripping them

out from probably years

of spreading. My back

went out shortly after

going back a third time,

as if my viciousness went

beyond reasonable for

the sake of having flowers

to grow and as if weeds

didn’t have any place in the

world at all in my plant

genocide.

Balance is what nature asks

not desolation. mutual respect

and room perhaps for all to

find a place,

I asked their forgiveness, and

release from any curse upon

me, the curse that used up my

back muscles in their overstraining.

it took conscious thought to not pluck out

the little sparse green flakes that

had re-emerged.

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