Ava Jones Poet Free verse

The growing tree

There is a part of that still bleeds 
A part of that I was supposed to shed 
How a snake sheds its skin 
It will not leave 
Almost Like a slab of metal forced into a young tree 
Separating her from me 
I see how she weeps 
I observe how she rages when the blows 
How she dances in the wind and blooms in the rain
How her leaves dance to ground in the fall 
I see her struggle from the corner of my eye 
Growing in the opposite direction yet still apart of me

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Suzette Richards July 10, 2024 at 1:37 AM I find your analogy of the cast slough of a snake with that of what you were supposed to shed, intriguing. During the process the snake becomes blind and is extremely aggressive. Congratulations on your placement, Ava, with this poem remenicent of the Imagimism perfected by Hilda Doolittle in her poem, Oread.

Ink Empress July 9, 2024 at 2:21 PM Such a thoughtful poem, observant you are and you feel the strength of this tree, standing tall and swaying to the breeze; in whichever season that comes her way! I do that often, just observe and feel nature: and i love how youv written here. Congratulations on your win