Dirt

A Poem

Her skin is of dewy grass

that smells of lilac

she breeds life on her back

so that I may take in its breath

and understand what’s left

You ask who is she?

Whose guidance I ponder

listening to her wonders

I call her mother-

You call her dirt

Photo by Noah Buscher on Unsplash

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Aislynn Marie Hulet

Putting life on blast to celebrate mistakes and how they shape our future.