Going against the grain

I’m a giant burl

a fungus

spun into a lumpy shape,

a coil of sadness/excitement and trepidation

about a tomorrow

where all the wood is expected

to fall in with the rest of time.

I don’t know how the ocean

will receive me.

I want to learn a floating song

that allows my limbs to fall

open and smoothly

on the summer breeze.