By Lucia Solorzano
I have dreams of my veins spreading out
like the vines on my garden wall
And my blood, bringing life
like the ocean 20 miles south
My skin, the protector
like the air and the clouds
The hairs on my body to keep me warm
like the small spring grown sprouts
My braid that swings about
like the old moss licked tree
that grew with me
and it’s leaves that fell
like the trees that fell
like the chemicals that spewed and spilled
and the smog that clouded our judgement
and brought us downhill
and now the vines can’t grow
and the ocean can’t glow
with the life and the warmth
of the trees and the sprouts
and my garden wall
the vines stopped growing
and all we do is watch the leaves fall.
