Sometimes, my thoughts become so small, so insidious, that they slip between cracks in my brain
becoming trapped in the earth beneath

It’s here that the light is so very far away, and i know that i am a thing from the deepest darkness
made of hard clay and sand

My senses fill with ancient life, and i’m full of death and the taking of it, the taking and the making of life
persistent in the ever blackest earth

I shift dank fragrant soil towards the sun, the softest, tiniest glow, from the hottest brightest life
and i will myself up up up

Away from the deep cold lands, away from my old evil, from the dirt of knowledge that i’m a grave
My will leaves me for the sky

Up up up, through the crack from which the promise of gold beckons, a blur in the night
showing roots pointing to a better place

I know that i am the thing in the deep, but i reach high, scales and caked fingernails
poking through like a dandelion on the sidewalk

The sun bakes my scales into skin, my clodded earth now eyes and mouth
I walk clumsily because i’m always looking up

~ Mine, March 10, 2021

IMAGE: istock