Roots
The springtime rain is falling
and the road is filled with longing.
I realize, this is such a worn cliche.
But when you love with wild abandon
sometimes you are left standing
underneath a wilting apple tree.
The fruit falls bruised and battered.
Your fragile heart is shattered.
But the roots, the roots will set you free.
1 comment:
good morning sunshine.
how i miss your face.
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