Banana Palm

Your leaves grow longer than my arm.

Where is your head?

Split and cut, your blood should be leaking,

but you crinkle instead.

Taller than a basketball player

and splayed wide, indiscreet,

dwarfing me as I stand next to you,

you live and you die, and then repeat.

Published by Dawn M. Paul

I am an artist and writer at Come take a mental rest with me.

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