Clean cool air strokes my face Exhilaration embraces my soul I ascend high into the clouds Carefully woven fabric my base Closing my eyes...

How did I end up here? Last I knew I was hanging from a tree Am I drowning in this flowing byway? Or am I able to float above  the...

Root deep; Stay low; Bend when wind Decides to blow-- This is how you live To grow. Grass knows. A Poem A Day - Ruth Lee