Autumn
and the rain was beautiful
mushrooms grew over our box
Inside the soft earth it grew
hidden under our escape the mold and worms lived
our things festered like a canker
We never destroyed what we tried to hide from
We ran from him who hurt you
we let his poison spread under our skin
For a while, we could ignore
But, tender Curiosity, did you have to pick the scabs?
He was waiting for you there
He had been waiting for so long
Everyone we gave this gift to
their fragments spread like roots
twisting underground
turning the trees black
We found that we could no longer fight it
Out of our secret grave our ghosts rose again
our burial ground grew the brambles to claim these seasons
Sweet rose of my contentment
How I love you, even here I can.
I am tired now
and afraid
The dripping of the water is a melancholy painting
all in purple
I lie here in the soft, moist soil and wait
growing these black twisting trees
Do not forget, travelers of new seasons, remember us here
The roots of
a new forest
Unearth us
cut us down
with axes hew these boles that grew from our bruises
For we are like the mold that grows
from every piece a nation
Do not bury us
We will be here
waiting
remembering the shades we painted together.