When the hills we grew on
disappeared, our parents said:
Set down roots near still waters.
Be grounded. Hold on tight.
My brother, desperate, consumed
the fauna that made him home
until nothing came to roost.
My sister sent her tap root deep,
busted through limestone & quartz
to reach springs hidden below bedrock.
I dreamed the sky is ground & ground sky.
I sent my roots into the atmosphere.