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Picking at roots

Which twist and turn

And cling and bind,

Their python-grip

Dark secrets holds

Within the ground,

Whilst boughs reach high

With Spring-birthed pride

A painted face,

To mask the past

The darker branch

Which mirrors death,

As buds awake

Blissful and blind

To strangled roots

That drag us down.

 

This poem was inspired by a prompt posted by Vick Linde She has posted a wonderful piece of artwork entitled ‘Taking Root’ which is by Robbie Porter.

You should check her site out if she’s unfamiliar to you.

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