Woman lies flat in
worm-eaten earth,
rain battering
gnarled spine,
cold stones bind
barren *******
Small stones,
but jagged,
shaped and shined
by time
reshaped by wind
unearthed by man.
A hundred million
years might grow
a mountain.
Rain stings bare hide,
fills and pushes
babygirl streams,
rushes and forces
ripewoman rivers
but the ocean it is not.
Woman lies
face down
in fruitless loam.
Hands clench rotten
roots and slick
vegetation.
Hands shaped
then reshaped
by time and tasks
become
touchless husks
growing smaller still.
Woman lies quiet
worm eaten soil
broken back bent
against the torrent.
Worn feet twist against
the ground,
seek footing.
Small feet they are
however mighty.
Stepped vigilantly and
sometimes stomped along
stayed still to be stepped on
and stomped ******
Shaped and reshaped
by pathways of
caution and fury,
sometimes fear.
Woman lies flat
in worm eaten earth.
She wished to be a stone
to cut rather than be cut.
To be the tide,
to push rather than be pushed.
But she is only a woman
and she thought
raw earth might taste right
so she opened her mouth.