Feet read the land
as toes curl
oozing mud
Eyes glaze the clouds
as hands furl,
sifting sand
Tongue tastes the words
birthplace names whirl
over my lips
Body bends to hills
rain clouds hurl
another storm
Landscapes written
as life unfurls
another test
Written on the lands of my birthplace, January 2021.
It might be that your teeth
ReplyDeletetouch dirt, that your tongue
might hurt, that your body
could cry out for a quick escape
But when a writer shares a verse
of the wide open landscape,
their poem becomes water,
and our thirst, slaked