i try to plant it

but the wind blows

the soil from these hands

that wrap themselves about my roots

as if the soil is sand


soon i am buried to my chin

immobilized and wondering

when the next gust will arrive

to cover me completely

and steal my breath from me


but this is merely sand

surely i should be capable

of rising, standing, moving

catching up with one

who walks away from me


across the vibrant field’s

oasis kelly green

moving ever farther from

the running woman

that i am


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