Indelible

Brooke Soulsby

memories in my skin lie preserved

back here, old haunt;
the haunting place of others

against the bark of Old Tree
its scarf; tendrilling Ivy
                  creeping, creeping
                  cooing, cooing as to a babe in the twilight
 drawing me in as if I am

 I suppose to Old Tree, I am …
 in a whisper … I am …

Ivy extends
reaching for my trunk
                 uproot me
                 dredge it all up
transmute me into parts
new tidings for Old Tree, that
mottled pine trellis with
                roots mingled with
the matters of many beneath long solid soil;
Ageless Conduit.

Ivy beckoning the network
halcyon offering; folding in and in

wand’ring
               a messenger
weaving
              minding
replicating
              mining
for a
             DNA
             homecoming.

                                              It’s a promise.

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