A poem about trees(?) maybe...
We both suck up the oh-two
like it's true to me or you,
and who knew I'd find these grips
slipped under my feet grabbing at the ground
all around me
holding me to the world.
A tree's got rings for every year,
I've got my memories traveling
in concentric circles but still
within me until I let just the smallest
set of words slip out.
Who knew I'd be a tree