Sunday, February 08, 2009

Scraping and clawing at the dirt
She cultivates life's needs
Fingers nimbly work and are
dirty and moist.

Roots and twigs entangle
Jagged rocks cut and bruise
Black, thick mud fills
the time worn wrinkles of her hands.

She sits exhausted and consumed
The work more than she planned
Sweat beads on her brow
She sits back on her soiled knees.

Her face raises to the sun
Its warmth fills her
Her eyes close in response
the heat pouring over her face and body.

She leans back
arching her neck
She is satisfied.

She feels the coolness of the earth
between her toes and her eyes open
the work is always before her
Her hands dig deep, toiling once again.

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