Roots

I dug up some of them
the jaggy root bowls
from the earth
a dozen or so,

the fire
now embers
piles of small smoking sticks
needed turning,

I launched
individually the bowls
onto the fire,

some missed
some didn't miss
landing
a top,

it doesn't matter
if they
the bowls
catch light

they might
but it doesn't matter,

I looked at my bloody bare arms
& thought of war,

blood from where the thorns had cut me

not sure why I thought of war

I just did