My Kind of Growing

_{Photo by Clare Breakell}

By Clare Breakell

A daughter of heat 

Scorched from my crown to my soles I tried to bathe in the sun 

Here is where I dug my hands 

Here is where all that I was has been left Many trees have fallen since, 

Not a single one heard 

Choking on dirt 

That’s what this kind of growing is like Ripping up roots from the earth 

Thats what my kind of growing is like 

A daughter of wind 

Howling just to try and fill canyons I only ever burn in the sun 

Here is where I dig my heels 

Here is where all that I was has been kept Many tombs have I made since, Not a single one visited 

Scrambling over jagged rocks 

Thats what this kind of growing is like Ripping up skin on the edges 

That’s what my kind of growing is like