To My Bug

Undying light –
youth of a limited
eternity –
may you grow like oak
against hail storms spit out
into the air – or soft linen
in a cool stream.
Washed but free to wander
when the weather is clear.
I will uproot you,
asking forgiveness in
moments I regret
the process of aging –
fearing the memories
that will make you un-mine.
I cannot leave
until your happiness
is sewn into this quiet Earth –
the final ring inside my
brittle bark.

© Audrey Rosengreen, 2018  For my buggy