I’m a branch of the family wild and free.
My branches are wide but there’s no fruit on me.
My roots go down deeply. They’re seeking a place
to spread underground while leaving a trace
of what is below by what’s stretched to the skies.
Each leaf is a word that lives and then dries,
pressed onto paper, preserved and collected—
read if I’m lucky, pondered and dissected.

I’ve spawned no additions to the family tree.
Only my words will live after me.

The prompt today is branch.

6 thoughts on “Fruitless

  1. Pingback: Branches (the essence in all) | Blogged With Words

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