Poetry

Excavating

There’s decades of dirt neath my nails
from decades of digging neath my feet
to discern the color and shape of bloom
the little seed intended me to be
The mirror’s no help
I created that stranger
from sand and old movie quotes
Eventually another will dig
a hole and drop me in
still no closer to knowing

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as: , , , ,

4 replies »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s