30 Mar Walking through Weeds
Legs
lifted.
Thigh
touches the sky.
Foot falls.
Clay upon clay,
Yet somewhere in between the weeds gleam
happy, untrustworthy grins.
Leeching nutrients from the dust of labored hands,
they find their way
to all corners,
lying in wait..
for something beautiful to grow,
so that the green arms can engulf the persistence
of a growth
natural resistance,
with bitter sap
that poisons pure benefit that was given to the doubt.
Legs rise,
arms fly,
Armor encases,
Amore unlaces
weeds.
That should have stayed as dormant seeds.
-Kashmir Maryam, 2014