Fern

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Thousands, the tails all in a row,
Ragged, jagged, suckling at the stems
Litters of chlorophyll, water fed,
Magic the light and air into sugars
Belching purity for the motile
Scrubbed with fairy soap in raindrops
Balleting with rhythm’s soft breeze,
A thousand million leaflets
Sing arias, harmony with the sun.
And no one ever notices, no one ever thinks,
Our life is laid in the chamber pot of plants.

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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