Each month, write a new collection.
what lies belowlower the boxin the coldcruel earthhas the soulleft the bodyas the soilthumps on thewood deep inthe earthcutting thebody offfrom theair, the skythe sobbingmournerslingering above
What Lies BeneathUnlike the soil, what liesbeneath the human spoilsare sometimes lies. “Whatskies,” we might say, and“what bright flowers,” andeven “what fascinating creatures ofthe earth,” secretly thinking,“which, thankfully, we are not.”Other names than “human”--a breathy word not unlike“heaven”--kept low.Beneath our commerce,within the dirt, are rootsand microbes. And, granted,small in size, the rarely visible,does not always mean betteror more true. But here, amongrot, where “aloof” and has little room--strain though it mighttoward the sun—here in thisparticular dark, where boneslinger, a slow and perhaps indifferentgenerosity exists. Slow, indifferent,but, generosity nonetheless,a giving back from a bountiful cache.
Some great lines here. I love "this/ particular dark"!