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by: allison ryder

dirt brown stands tall as
forest and autumn emerge on its tips,
but there lies no roots. it is said:
the lack of veins allows the flutter in the wind.
it can move and in movement,
it can grow.
not tied down; neither
to landfill nor island.
an everlasting ability to be on a search
for purpose, for meaning, for exploration.
to search this world at new heights without
the painful, guilty, insecure, doubtful
attachment of those left behind.
the pain. the sorrow. the anger. the loss.
the abandonment. fuel the journey-
motivates the mind. to leave.
to take the chances we fear,
to make the jumps into an unknown abyss.
it’s easier to leave when you have no roots.
there are no goodbye’s or fears
of illness and death,
of losing time.
but to let roots hold us down, hold us back-
is to have branches like puppets,
living a life we were not made for-
a life like a silhouette shadow,
not real.
it is to have branches with buds
that never bloom.
an orphan has no roots
but it has flowers.