Growth

A poem about life.

Growth

Black offers a reflection
Of the trees and the sky
The branches growing
Luminous black and white
Endlessly into the sky’s expanse

The sky carries a burden
Pink drowned out by grey
What did the sun rise for?
To glare upon our hideous world?
To choke on our exhausts?

We rise to grow old and faint
Like the sky’s asphyxiated pink
Growth has lost definition
Young plants are trained and pruned
We live in formal gardens
I clamber for space among the thickest roots

The sun is youth
I’d rather rise on a winter’s day
Serene across a bleak, wintry expanse
The sky pure
The air sharp