Roots and Petals

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Yellow petals dance,
Swaying to the beat of the wind.
“Dance with us,” they chant, “dance with us!”
They beckon, extending their stems
To my shaking fists
Trying to soothe my balled up hand.
I unball myself.
I reach out.
Out,
Out
My once frozen fists melting,
Blooming like petals.
High off of their smell,
Grounded by their trance,
I watch them dance.
And for a moment,
A simple moment,
I feel as though I have the petals of a flower,
Not the roots of a weed.





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