For Clarity’s Sake

July ’22 Heat Contest Runner Up

close up of rose leaves

by @anoka_river_writer

As a rose who grows wildly crooked to drink sunlight through the woodland’s openings, I unfurl regularly

Unbeknownst to me before, I now startle at every crow’s cry and do not know how to plant myself

Reduced to chaos, my thorns strengthen

Wiser, from purer pain

I’m twisted into something new that hurts less but feels more, and subjected to seasonal forest fires; then monthly; then, at once, everyday

A recurring hope is: a meadow. How is one to keep meadows as they die? Through underground tunnels, as I am as much the soil as it is me

I am to give in to burning

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