Man Is Deciduous
Man is deciduous She or He, And breaks dormancy slowly, The mossy machinery of god Moving mountains In his roots. From the hydroponic medium Of his mother's womb, He is drawn forth finally By the curious call of the Sun, To stand in the storms of life, The soulless winds, toughening up. As he laughs, the chariot thrumbles Pell Mell across the sky, Until genetics, or frenetics, or Winter nip his bud and He sleeps again, Unclothed Until Spring. Written December 25th, 2001 © on Dec 24 2001 04:44 PM PST, Carole Dudley 0 • 10
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"Man is deciduous..."