I grow wildly 

no longer thorned

concerned with commotions from above

the same old debate

is the world black and white or just shades of grey 

I the roots of a blood orange tree

wait the arrival

a song bird singing a morning medley

a swarm of buck moths nipping at my leaves

a pair of unsure hands caressing my skin

with life lines shaped like my intricate roots

hovering over my branches

caressing my ripe sunset colored skin

deciding if I’m ripe to pick

          —Jason Kerzinski

illustration by Happy Burbeck

Verified by MonsterInsights