Forest Floor
The discarded dead find an unused beauty,
an afterlife that curls, re births,
tunnels and reshapes -
a mulching of a former season's thin bones.
Mortality buds from an emptiness
long before the seed encloses it,
a mottled mold unwinds death to life.
See the genetics of the unseen,
see the shedding and replenishing,
a branching polymorphic architecture
that constantly furrows and gardens
the grave.
A self-determined choreography
of stemless minds, the unseen labor
before the upsurge, before the foundation
and the root.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
