You trace the leather cover cracked by frost
Quercus alba leaves count what you lost
The ferris wheel stands silent iron-skinned
Acer saccharum sap runs slow and thinned
Root systems map the midway you once knew
You press a page to bark of pine and oak
Roots drink the ink from words the season spoke
The coaster tracks bloom rust in ochre rings
Mycelium threads stitch what the winter brings
Spore prints bloom where neon letters died
Root and rust hold the same slow song
You write in dirt where you belong
Pages turn to humus dark and deep
Promises the frozen ground will keep
Root and rust the only truth you know
You measure p
H in tin cups by the gate
Where cotton candy sugar sealed its fate
Funaria hygrometrica claims the sign
Moss writes its name in copper line by line
Gametophytes read what human hands forgot
Root and rust hold the same slow song
You write in dirt where you belong
Pages turn to humus dark and deep
Promises the frozen ground will keep
Root and rust the only truth you know
The notebook breathes its spine a root crown wide
You read the rings that time carved deep inside
No ticket needed for this quiet show
Just patience grown from what the seasons sow
Root and rust the only truth you know
You tuck a pressed leaf between stiff board and hide
Acer rubrum flame that refused to die
The ticket booth surrenders to the vine
Parthenocissus claims the rusted sign
Tendrils grip the bolts that held the sky
Dawn paints the midway gold through skeletal steel
You close the cover let the morning heal
Quercus macrocarpa drops its acorn crown
You walk the root path back to underground
Dormancy breaks where rollercoasters slept
Root and rust hold the same slow song
You write in dirt where you belong
Pages turn to humus dark and deep
Promises the frozen ground will keep
Root and rust the only truth you know
The notebook sleeps where autumn grasses grow
Foot stomp fades on frozen ground
Clawhammer rests no more sound
