Like a Resting Tulip
Under the wintered grass of the finest, fallen snow;
Like a resting tulip, tulip resting: I'm buried way below;
Sleeping bulbs are held like seemingly dormant, human souls;
Dissent is silent under the inches I know;
Just say I'm taking, taking a natural pause to again regrow.
Connie Nelson Ahlberg
All Rights Reserved.
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