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SugareePoems
I sit on a hill, the view I have come to know myself by set before me the sun laying its guardian eyes on my back. I scrape my fingernails into the ground unearthing memories, the dirt crumbles cold and wet on my skin. I let the broken up clumps fall through the spaces between my fingers. I dig a little longer and find you. I unearth those beautiful mountains the way the sun hit the water that day how those pine trees smelled as I buried my toes in the sand and you brought me home. I climb into those holes, those safe pockets of earth, where it is cool and dark and dream of you. All the while exhuming what may be better left untouched. I scoop it all into a mound pat it down, at last, I dig my heels into the ground and stand.
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
Digging
I sit on a hill, the view I have come to know myself by set before me the sun laying its guardian eyes on my back. I scrape my fingernails into the ground unearthing memories, the dirt crumbles cold and wet on my skin. I let the broken up clumps fall through the spaces between my fingers. I dig a little longer and find you. I unearth those beautiful mountains the way the sun hit the water that day how those pine trees smelled as I buried my toes in the sand and you brought me home. I climb into those holes, those safe pockets of earth, where it is cool and dark and dream of you. All the while exhuming what may be better left untouched. I scoop it all into a mound pat it down, at last, I dig my heels into the ground and stand.
Sugaree
Written by
Sugaree
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
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