Old beginning


The snake slinks out of its skin

so easily, yet it can’t be willed.

Cells rejuvenate, but do souls?

It’s a matter of layering

rather than stripping,

letting atoms gather

around a discarded peach pit

surrendered to the deep.

Dive for it

and open your eyes

to the sting of an old beginning.

That twisted tree on the shore

bears fruit, and you are only just

coming up for air.


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