From This Earth
From this earth, this dark soul
leaching to the sea, biding
in silence beneath the trees,
and by my calloused hands,
washed by sighs, fed on the
drip, drip, drip of need,
I have wrought a being
that might yet prove fit to be with
you. Come, till the soil of these,
my parched and stunted roots,
and let us shoot into the
green promise of tomorrow.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
