I am a lord under the earth, I am a dwarf above it. I have five icy children who, circled in my arms, I covet. I once shared my family’s title but have been stripped of my worth; discriminated by my size and position of my birth.

I cover your work to prevent its removal. I could be a creature, or a sign of approval.

I can heal, I can peel, I breathe and I can rot and pucker. I can be marked, I can be cut, I can be stitched. I envelope so much.

My child and mate are the subject of a very odd debate. Heed my call, it's known to all, a call to labor, less to arms.

I am small but mighty, harboring life within, waiting for the right moment to sprout and begin. Birds and animals eat me alive, but I am no one's pray. Instead, I give them shelter, one day.