orange sun listless, kneeling
my knees spread apart
sinking into soil
clay and sand, silt
slipping a sip of a glance
eyelashes, lids lifting
landing on a patch of sun
sifting through your worn shirt
spot of light on collarbone
you adjust your hat
boots digging into the shovel
digging into the soil
my knees spread apart
rubbing soil from sweet potatoes
inhaling earth, sweat
you measure the horizon
the light's in your eyes
we speak of blackberries
wild, they grow well
you dig
i rub
knees spread apart
from the soil

1 comment:

Jamie Lee said...

What a delicious poem! It's metaphor, perfectly and effective woven.