Surplanted

Surplanting

Hidden deep in ferns,
Damp, warm scent of earth.
Tears watering their dry ground…
My heart shrank.
They were taking me away...
Again...
To...
Smoke, buildings...smells I’d never known.
I was home now,
Mothered by my native earth.
Do not let them take me,
Please…
I cry into this weeping April soil,
My tears
The children of this ancient hill.

They shout my name with urgency.
A waiting bus.
A hand upon my shoulder.
Come on, he says…
This elder whom I trusted.
Uncle, friend, paternal guide...
Betrayer!
Carried from the little bridge that marked my home…
Through the Viaduct,
The boundry of my life.
I was lost now to all,
An exile at the age of seven.
The ferns grew on in native heath,
I withered in an unknown land.