By Samantha Jory-Smart
I braided remnants of the sea
dribbling out from swollen waves
into a fishtail
and wove my garden
into a trail of roses and weeds
I crocheted my thoughts together
after combing frayed edges straight
and I plaited a bowl of
into a bracelet
for the Earth.
Now my fingers are limp.
They fumble with the exhaustion
only bones know
so I’ll leave the trees
to knit the horizon back together
© Samantha Jory-Smart and The School for Young Writers, 2017.