casting lemon rays 
from upturned palms 
the child cries out 
to sharp thistles
oh, take this
falling on knees
into wet sand
black-winged birds
dance around her
oh, take this
mother tree parts
twisted wooden arms
crackling with heat
ancient cedar rising
oh, take this
elder wind forces
gravity to ease
the child laughs
freely she moves
oh—

*36/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.

**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic.