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New Life. (Survivor challenge 7).

By Andrew Hide

Topics: Poetry Source: AllPoetry Original source

A dead piece of stick, draws on waters flow, and from this rotting twig, new life starts to grow. Stretch for the heavens, reaching for the light, a tiny green shoot, pushes into sight. Along the dampened earth, sucking water from the floor, but this can't quite, it's hunger, it look for so much more. Reaching the foot of oak, now it starts to climb, roots cutting through the bark, the oak starts to run out of time. Higher and higher, it climbs, whilst spreading all around, clothing the ancient oak, from boughs down to the ground. Ever drinking its hosts sap, this parasite, is a survivor, spreading more and more, strangling its sole provider. But come the autumn winds, the oak can take no-more, and with a crash of thunder, it smashes to the floor. The ivys crushed beneath the tree, pushed firm into the grass, and slowly starts to rot, in nature nothing lasts. Its crushed and broken stems, lie rotting in the rain, with tiny hidden roots, new life starts again.Not happy with this one. Written April 5th, 2002 © on Apr 05 2002 09:50 AM PST, Andrew Hide   0 • 9

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"A dead piece of stick,..."

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Author:Andrew Hide

Source:AllPoetry

"A dead piece of stick,..." by Andrew Hide

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