Rooted to the Ground

Blades of grass tear through my throat,

Down to my lungs,

I am nothing if not rooted to the ground,

I shake my tree to bear fruit to a barren wasteland,

I fool my body to fertilize the garden,

For every seed I sow,

I make this world more beautiful,

If only for a moment,

There’s a special kind of sadness that seems to come with Spring,

At least that’s what I whisper to myself at night