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Matriarch
December 19, 2012
Airy breezes ruffle the leafy tendrils
that frame the visage
who framed my childhood.
Sitting in between her roots
helped ground me through my
infantile troubles.
Clambering up the branches,
there was always soft grass beneath
to catch the fall.
But a cold winter blew through
and a blight came following after,
leaving nothing
but a whithered stump
with the roots adhering stubbornly
to the ground.
And as I
stand in this field,
alone
those roots help me cling
to my youth.
© Courtney K., Bethel Park, PA
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