
Green brought me back from the brink
Sprouted beneath my feet
And told me to slow down
Green stained my hands when I was a child
As I pulled it from the earth and
Rubbed it into my skin
Green clambered out from between the cracks in the pavement
Gave birth to children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren
Who voyaged far and wide
On the breeze
Green came
To reintroduce itself to me
Green asks me how I’ve been
It’s been a while
Can I come inside?
Green shoots from my fingertips
Unfurls in the palms of my hands
Inhales (inhales)
Exhales (exhales)
As I start to remember
Green wraps itself around my shoelaces and
Grounds me
About the Creator
Laura Johnson
phd dropout, librarian, adhd-er and plant enthusiast


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