I am growing my hair long
I am growing
like a spider web
The one I saw when I pulled off bark from the sycamore
(climbing her and sitting on her branches after being in awe of the two joined acorn tops’ rooftop pattern drawn to my attention on top of leaves on the ground after descending from the live oak and after eating handfuls of chickweed covering the forest floor- the plant I ate last week on my way down the mountain and was discovered by a young and lively animated girl, told her of it after she asked me what it was and me saying it is a blood purifier and her saying in newly mouthed English after we made sure she could identify it and she tried some and liked it, Oh very nice to meet you.)
Sitting on the sycamore’s branch, finding a piece of white grey bark peeled back a little, a Spider’s web attached and trailing, alight in the wind, as I pull it off and finger the piece
A Spider’s web I am growing out my hair and sitting in the breeze smelling the sycamore leaves