dirt

Poem – Escape Within Cartoons

Snow begins to cover the empty field
as the trees hold up the graying sky.

I want to bury my head into
the snow and mud,

I want to find a way into
the earth,

while I do not understand where
this world is going and the heavy thoughts,

and when I lift my head
I am living in a cartoon

where the scenesare surreal
and at the end we can erase

our actions and past
and start over.

Poem – On Our Daily Walk

On our daily walk,
we follow the same worn trails,

make the same turns,
and pass the same trees.

That pond is empty,
covered with algae.

That one is home to
busy and noisy muskrats.

So many times we have
have come this way

that I follow the dogs
as they know where to go

which trail to take
which hill to climb.

Yet this is a new day
filled with nature

and there are infinite mysteries
in each leaf and grain of sand.

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Poem – Time

I have been down that path
beneath that same sky before
but still, each time it is new,
on a different day, with a different
mindset, with intentions to make
the most of the time given.

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Poem – What the Fields Hide

Leaving behind the city
we pass the line separating
concrete and dirt path.

Recent snow has hardened and crunches
with each step.

I pause and silence myself
and hear ravens nearby.

I pause and hold my breath
and imagine what secrets are beneath the empty field.

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Poem – Cleansed Through Smoke and Fire

On the earth I walk with light steps
and place fallen branches in the pit.

To the sky I gaze through pine trees
and watch smoke disperse to the heavens.

To my future self I set the path,
wash away the dirt, and cleanse the soul.

Poem – Roots

I walk the worn dirt path
circling the overgrown fields
where the winds have abated
and the grass, flowers, and
trees have grown deep
roots while the land has
gone back in time before
the cities of industry.

Poem, for Earth Day

My breath from the trees.
My liquid from the oceans.
My feet upon the earth.

Each day, each second
should be in your honor.

Each task, each decision
should be in your image.

Through you we can attain peace.

Poem – Machines That Move Earth

(1)

Putting aside hollywood notions
of machine versus man –

September morning is
hidden in fog, coated
with an early frost.

Subdued sun scattered
across fields, meadows, and prairies.

The sky becomes the land
becomes the horizon.

We head north,
leaving behind city
lights and traffic
for pine trees and
winter in the air.

(2)

Winter is coming
early this year.

With axes, shovels
and our hands

we move the earth
gently and with care.

Preparing trails
and food plots,

becoming part of
the system,

returning to our roots.

Tools of the Trade

Tools of the Trade

Shelter and Home

Shelter and Home

My Helper

My Helper