Growing Up by Aron Olson

You’re well-hidden in the womb of the earth.
Then you sprout up, very small, and nobody notices.
No animals have touched you yet.
Your branch loses some of your greenage, some of your green.
Then you have children, which are green in the spring
and orange in the fall. When you grow up,
you have birds and squirrels nesting in your limbs.


Aron Olson is the winner of the 2025 Cow Tipping Prize, awarded to a writer with intellectual/developmental disabilities. He lives in Bloomington, Minnesota. He works at Starkey Hearing Aids stuffing boxes for hearing aids in the shipping department. In his spare time, he enjoys bowling, softball, basketball, golf, running, tennis, pickle ball, and bicycling. He also enjoys going on walks in nature parks with staff and family year-round.

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