My Life In Word

Insistence

Roots claw the wall, damp breath of stone,

Sap and rust and rainbone grown.

Leaves whisper dust, green tasting air,

Bark splits open, musk everywhere.

Sun warms lichen, sweet and sour,

Time drips slow in vine and flower.

The wall groans low, the roots reply—

Life insists. It will not die.

Simona A. Brinson

Photo by Zoe Eng on Unsplash