Growing Wild


As a flower amongst a field lined with 
gold foil, soon they will pluck her body and 
pull out her weeds. 

But for now she breathes as trees sway 
before the twilight, water bending beneath the 
sun, dancing leaves falling in symphony. And grass 
holding to her sides, whispering, I've got you; 
I'm here. The Earth holding her hand, promising, 
They will see you every night and 
still will say, 'What a beautiful star.'

It brings her peace; 
so she can finally close her eyes. 
One day flowers will grow through her bones,
basking in the greatness of the world.
In the breeze, they'll sigh, living still.

Poetry and photography by Hazel J. Hall.

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