We, over the hedges grown
to outline the lot we own,
push over, what easy loots,
to where we've always been the roots.
Sometimes so far, sometimes so near,
deep in the ground moist with fear,
apart from foliage so wild,
so green, as parents to a child.
Unlove that separates the two
inseparables, falls apart
itself. We naturally grew
over the hedges, through the heart.
We, over the hedges grow,
with eyes, and soul, - but the sow
must bring together top and roots,
by squashing body under boots.
28 октября 2017 г.