My face Between Root and Sky
My mind a tangle of what is and isn’t mine
My face Between Root and Sky
A hand against my face, I see,
the tangled limbs that live in me.
The branches twist, the veins align,
a map of earth and blood entwine.
One eye open, cold and wide,
watching seasons drift and slide.
Dawn spills red across my palm,
a silent fire, deep and calm.
Shadows whisper, roots remain,
flesh and forest share their name.
Still my eyes watch and see.
The weed and roots engulfing me
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (3)
Good work
Nice work 👍💓
Very good subject 👏