i can still smell
the fertile soil
beneath my nails.

breathe deep.

inhale the heavy crush
of nature, fragrant
and somber on a frigid
Florida morning.

pulling past-due produce
from the earth
only to cut it up
and return the harvest
once more to the ground
as compost.

i nicked my finger
on a pair of scissors
dicing mustard greens.
i laughed. i’d never
noticed just how red
blood was. today,
juxtaposed
with the Planet’s brown flesh,
i marveled at my own fragility.

for the first time
in what feels like forever
i didn’t ruin
what i touched.