The stalks have wanted to come up for ages,
But I protected them with soil.
I could sense their need for nourishment, so I fed them.
More earth, more fertile coverage.
I watered them too,
And took keen note of their spot.
I believed in the plant,
But I was afraid it would come up.
With water, and food and the promise of light,
Maybe one day, maybe.
Fright.
Just a little longer, under the earth.
Earth is for roots, and sun is for branches.
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