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Dogwood
life is a tediuous breaking of branches
some of them old and infested with memories
others vibrant and striving for a new world
a tedious packing of flowers abound
adorning limbs with bark and bite
many grow rough, some stay tender
but all are connected to and through
a core always expanding and straining
pushing the bark sometimes thin
a calloused and renewing core
always seeking deeper roots
sometimes, drying the ground to dust,
in storms, alotting too much sway,
as to give to the howling winds
a noticeable lean as i bend
but always i've held some ground
enough to get through the winters
enough to welcome a spring
to host unrestraint
and wake a slumbering beauty
life hid through colder weather
in hopes that rain and thirst may unite
in a deparching grasp at life
