I am pinning my words to the soft  earth
The soft touchable, feelable earth
they deserve that after all this time of wandering
The skulls of the thoughts I think and the words I say are fractured and their spirits go askew
But they are coming, they are here
and they are stepping on the soil in fits of clumsy courage  
They have not felt the ground
They are used to being swept away, & being carried in thin air by false promises that were pretty sometimes

But this is prettier
And someday they will run