I am the roots of the oak
growing in your front yard, reaching deep
into the earth, stretching under
your feet, beneath your house
and your bed.
No one sees me there, aching
for you. still
I move through the soil and rocks, listen
for your voice, sing love songs
into the night,
waiting for you.
The use of second person elevated the unsettling feeling this poem gave me, which is great. It felt dark and eerie, but also like unrequited love.
Loved this line:
No one sees me there, aching
for you. still