Wind runs wild over sun-burnt grass, leaves fight longevity

despite destiny,

only trunk will triumph over time-
odd to think you were once a shoot someone let shine.

I’ve cut down so much in these past days

trying to find a path between space and this place
once again taken root under the footing I pressed but lightly

into its soil.

Nature is nonstop, as is time and tide and ties that are forever

breaking

only to twist again into holds more sophisticatedly complicated
than before.

Wild runs these winds over things not yet tossed.

All words and photos by Damien B Donnelly