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HOLLOWAY

"I am not separate from the forest.

When I was once, I was not myself.

 

Spirit grows alongside trees, and it knows this.

 

The underside of pulsing wings,

whispering light in glassy creeks,

and oak tips cutting howling wind

have always been familiar

because I saw myself in those places

before I could recognize my own strange face.

 

Sometimes I die when I tread too far

beyond the tendrils of roots,

so the woods are where I want to be

when I transform one more time.”

Holloway