deepundergroundpoetry.com
We forget how we call this place earth
The pen lids open and close
like an inhale and exhale
past and present collide
together as bark on trees
begin to strip themselves
down, as stems on flowers
bend in their own hysteria.
As ground splits wide open
I see lamb and cattle scatter
to find safety in the unknown,
I remind myself there cannot
be days without nights as
I herd them away into their
respective houses like
my elders once did.
Tonight we watch rain
outside washing away
lifes grime remaining
unresolved, inside this
strange warm house
their bellies are full
and I have kept
my promises,
left unspoken.
Published 15th Mar 2025
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