The Moss


I may be slimy, but I am life,
laid on bricks and reeds
Moved away from sun
to rest, in dark introspections.

Full of water, a sea, pungent green
I shall last only this rain
I wish not, that you slip over me
in ignorance
or side track indignant.

Look at me, from distance
or, gently walk over me
I shall hold you in my mass,
and be carried in my death,
a trace, under your feet.
 
By Uma Asopa
 


Copyright © Dr. Uma Asopa 2006