I, Tumbleweed.

Tumbleweed.
Chaotic mess.
This is all I know.
The fingers, thin and spiny,
cleverly intertwined.
Once rooted.
There are roots.
But the wind, she severed them all. 
Brutal injustice,
or
heroic escape?

My home.

Nonexistent.

I can't remember

where the parents first made love

and reproduced me.

I am nameless.

And chaotic.

Father root and mother earth

had a fatal fight.

I think.

The wind,
she divorced them.
She must have.
I am the result.
I am the escape.
I think.
Gnarled fingers
pointing blame
at everyone but me.
Pointing at every destination
but home.

I don't know them.

I can't remember.

Memories?

I have none.

Did the say goodbye,

or

good riddance?

I don't know.

Can't remember.

Blessings
or damnation -
maybe this is Heaven and hell
in harmony.

Tumbleweed,

my simple

self rolling down the trashiest road.

Artistic potholes.

Rain.

Sun.

Wildlife.

Life.

This is all I know,
and I don't know any more.