The Vine

I have already
borne fruit by
being fruit - the
fruiting of my
mother's womb, the
vessel of her hope and
love, her faith for
her own life and her
expectation rises in me
like sap this day as I
struggle and I
strive to bring to life
my own spirit resurrected
from her death that
struck me down like
famine, like an axe
striking at my root - does
enough of the vine remain
to suckle me this
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