Plant Life

She is not just
a woman moving through days
like train cars
but a secret sapling
growing through days
like inhalations
and nights
like exhalations.

She began to grow
the day she sat
on the back steps
crying, spilling tea,
trying to forget
the way his eyes
were the same,
but the world
around him
had suddenly changed
and the night had fallen in.

– Copyright Kay Winter

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5 thoughts on “Plant Life

  1. Sadness etched on this poem.

  2. Jennifer says:

    Catching up on the last few days. Love this one too, but oh, how I wish I didn’t relate to it so much.

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