dirt

on this day when
…….nothing
is as it should be
i sit beneath
…….this tree
…….watching pinecones fall
…….and birdsong bury

it’s all too pretty
…….too perfect
…….too much
…….
…….i dig my hands
…….bare
…….into earth
…….filled with root
…….and worm

…….to remind myself
……………this tree
……………this bird

…….of the accidental
…….vagaries of truth
……………that lie just
……………beneath the surface

.

.

.

A poem a day for 30 days.
In honor of National Poetry Month
,
this post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.


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