1 minute read

Here, under the glitter of a multi-coloured canopy I am finding a new serenity, the peace of lives measured in centuries. I am removed from glaring lights and constant haze, breathing in a million micro-organisms. My pulse no longer has the twitch and shuffle of muffled drum and bass bleeding through the wall from next door, my heartbeat settles to the pace of my slow stride. I have left behind the disarray of the city, exchanged it for the slow drowning of moss. I am stopping walking, gazing up at the branches and the distant sun, falling faster. Recently I have been too much concerned with electrical misfires inside my head, I have forgotten to watch lichen climb a felled trunk. My toes are rooting into the soil. They are sending signals into the mycellium network. It responds with a sustained hum. This long note holds me captive. I breathe out poison, nutrients for the leaves encircling me. We sway in symbiosis. My legs bend together. Merge. Time is syrup. Here is stillness. My pulse is. Slowing. To a beat. per minute. Hour. Days dropping. Dead leaves. Pile. Mulch. Regrow. My skin now. brittle. Wrinkled. Bark. What was. My name? I am. reaching. Arms. Twigs. Arms. Branches. To sky. My smile. Frozen. My blood. sap. I reach. Up. Decades. Collapse. Sky. Branches. Reach. towards. Light. Light. Light. Light.

Another Bristol Tonic prompt (the title.) I had a lot of fun with this one



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