more root than flower, I

am first of my mother

(to whom so much belonged already)

then female

next brave

a small, stubborn animal

a wandering young buffalo

horned

communal

peaceful unless threatened

violent when

I am predisposed to play with anyone

sometimes no one

I am of dirt and salt

tears and new beginnings

an achy soul and tender heart

to welcome storms

know about rainbows

embrace departure before arrival

how else to see new skies,

hear new stories?

I have covered myself with creek clay

and lain in the sun to bake

rinsed in the summer stream

a muddy relief to exposed softened hide

I have run home barefoot through berries and prickers alike

I have listened carefully

I have counted every star

My dreams are of gathering

stories and fruits

I am more root than flower

I am first of my mother

I am anew

Beginning

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