Spare the roots, and clean around them, making sure each one can grow, in its own twisted turns, trying its best, then pushing into the ground, curling it’s long attitude around the rock, around the soil, cutting in to the heart of the earth. Ever so slowly, even gentle in its walk.
Bring branches and flowers launching, with twisted limbs and over lapping blackened arms, that reach beyond the years, and make themselves support the others, holding up this growing creature, taller, broader, more naked at its bottom, more covered at its top.
Ralph Peck
Photograph by Sonja Parker
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