Individual Patches of Earth
A lip of warm water
crawling up a stomach
one late afternoon
delight, a moment past
earth rejoices in
sprays of light
color blends
perfect, and revolting
paint chipped
on a broken face
forgotten statue
beneath a tree in winter
ripple of water
near, a stench
far away a clearing
in the distance…
heed the humming
of a plane - a bird, as clear
on hills beyond
a vision of vapor
lay tears of time
past, hastily
our evening solitude
our Ancestors dream
familiar spiral spin,
a course of roots
severe cuts splitting
earth is dug
we pass on different
minds, shrewd
dreamers of another
life worth living
A sealed book,
unread, unlearned,
unlike individual patches
of earth.
Nancy Duci Denofio
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