The clouds are shoved across the sky.
Leaves cling to old branches barely holding their own.
On the ground, on hands and knees, she scrapes the soil.
Chilled fingers, broken nail.
Her mission is clear.
Tearing roots, tearing skin, pushed to her limits.
A braced final pull and all is free.
First touch of fresh air on thin skin and dangled root.
She cuddles her babe, new to the world under her chin.
Whispered promises stolen from her lips by the wind.
The father, the farm and life all lifted to the stars.
What stays is only what is planted.
She buries her heart in the hole left behind.
Protected from the elements and man.
Following, waiting, watching.
They want her to give in, turn her back, long enough for a nibble.
To eat her precious up, wrinkled orange roots and all.
Clutching the cool lump closer, she screams.
“Go away! It’s all I’ve got… There’s nothing else left!”
She walks on, holding on, for as long as she must.
Art is my own 😉