Unless I Still

I’m always leaving even as I stay,
I told March wind, mercilessly
Tugging clothes’ loose ends,
Blinding me with hair.

It circled my clenched spine,
Made knees bend and bounce
Impatiently before it said,

The flag of who you think you are
Is always flapping and snapping
Against a dream of some better place.

You are like a dead leaf rattling
On a spring tree, unable to let go
Even while buds are breaking green.

If you let go, this place will fly;
If you hold on, deeper root.
Either way, the chill wind breathed,
You’re mine.


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