Unpotted
To reach like a vine
in the moment of misery
Little tendril fingers frantic –
the desperate grasp for growth
Finding only air, fast, and falling,
wilting. With the dirt flying free.
–
Nothing you could have said
could have been worse than saying nothing.
11 thoughts on "Unpotted"
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Oh my goodness. What a moment to describe. I think my favorite words are “with the dirt flying free.” You really capture emotion in your writing.
Wow! What a fresh and brilliant metaphor!
💛
Oh, I’ve felt this. What a powerful little poem.
Wonderful!
Very emotional. love it!
I love the raw emotion in this poem. The line “little tender fingers frantic” is satisfying to read and a creative way to tell your story.
Quite a leap in that last stanza. I like the bracing surprise of it.
The ending really got me. Thanks!
Thank you all!
Little tendril fingers frantic –
the desperate grasp for growth
I especially admire these lines.