Growing Back

A poem for wildness that refuses to be defeated

My favorite thing about Tennessee
is that it refuses
to be anything but wild. 

Carve through it with steel
and concrete
and it will come back with 
vetch and dandelions
until all that we made is swallowed
in green—

And I hope to God I’m like that,
that whatever spark still shimmers
behind my eyes and makes me
want to spread my arms 
and sing to the wild
will never flicker out.
That no matter what grief
or expectation
or deep soul darkening doubt
closes in around me
I will recover what I was—
I will feel young again
speckled with sunlight
and fragrant flowers.

Even when I’m ground into gravel,
cold and flat and still,
in the fullness of time,
I hope to God that the green comes back. 

Carly Marlys is a poet, author, marketer, and occasional essayist (when the mood strikes). She posts poems about life, healing, and whatever else happens to catch her attention on the second and fourth Fridays of the month (or at least that is the goal). To receive said poems and delight in a variety of verse, please subscribe to this Substack.