Cycle
By Charlotte Z
Published 22 September 2021
I’ve allotted no leaves to the clasping wind,
But tiny seeds I share
Around the hodgepodge of trees,
the winding basket caresses the ground,
Sowing the gentle crust
I am patient for the thriving conditions
To wash over me like a blanket
The overflowing affection from the clock
Softly punctures my body
I am still waiting for the long sleep
Underneath the nurturing soil.
I shoot my head out of the crust
Feeling the lost warmth of the beaming glow
My budding leaves basks in heaven
And I climb in subtle height,
Giving souls a chance to survive