the roots of the tree
jut out, rib-like below the
pavement that it is
bending out of shape. above,
the concrete is rough, cracked, torn.
there’s wisdom to be
seen in the sprawl of the branches,
if one just knows where
to look. (it’s etched into the tree,
watching countless bypassers)
a fine layer of
grit covers the trunk in spring
and summer; the wind
whips gravel into the wood,
leaving tiny scars behind.
3 thoughts on “roots + wisdom + grit”
Thanks for an interesting Tanka poem, I appreciate your time writing for the Weekly Tanka Challenge.
Hope you are having a great week.
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