Where did I come from?
I asked my mother
Sleeping under the stars
she said
under the canopy of night
at the base of granite precipices
amidst mountain dogwood
in the sorrel beneath a sequoia tree
I could see myself
threaded through the night sky
brought to earth
like landed butterfly
sprouted seed pod
without wings
waiting in the clover to be found
#NaPoWriMo
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