Bette
let’s go back a
hundred-thousand years
to these ragged edges
torn rains
raw greens
biting seas
to the first sunrise,
now understood.
tears of calm joy –
a return.
we find ourselves
in this,
a kinship;
our brother is
our keeper,
and we
its’ guardian,
walk the edges
and the smooths;
our planet,
Earth’s children
Copyright © Dave Martsolf | Year Posted 2015
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