8/12 Turning drier and brighter

So now I know
 these powdered soils -
 the crusts of which
 are lifeless walls,
 and driest roots 
and bitty spreads 
have hair-strand gasps
 popped from their bones. But wobbly trunks 
are finding heart
 in summer’s rain;
 in puddled rings, and broken limbs
 and bigger pots
 know chance could give 
a winning fight