Rooted in Ash

The trees do not ask
why the wind breaks them.

They drink the rain
that falls from grieving skies,
and bury their sorrow
where no one can see.

Rivers remember
every stone that wounded them,
yet keep flowing
as if forgetting were impossible.

Night teaches the forest
what daylight never could:

Even the darkest roots
are still reaching
for something
they cannot see.

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