Possession
by Rochelle Hope Mehr

I feel like I have to fight all the time.
Scratch and claw just to fend off interlopers.
To grub the knotty
Fiber of my roots.
What is there?
No growth.
Just undergrowth.
I yaw.
I clang.
I collide with yin.
I slide hard into yang.
I am neither here nor there.
I transfigure dust into air.