Soil

May 10, 2016

Face - pinhole photo

cabbage-apples-fork - pinhole photo

Calendula - pinhole photo

SOIL

A simple crust between man and oblivion.

One hundred fragile summers left,

maybe less, dark cushion for jewels,

trodden with unseeing soles.

There is art down there if we know

to sketch its lines, sculpt its frame,

shade the subtleties of its face

drawn long from spring to frost.

The pulse thrives between our fingers,

crumbles the warm tilth,

lets through the twisting root

searching for the core of life’s longing.

Tags:
Pinhole photography Pinholga Poetry

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