this earth.

each blade stands erect, arms
outstretched, head touching sky,
feet touching earth.
this earth.
this north carolina soil is, rich
with the bodies of the dead, relationships
whose memories have rotted, sunk deep
into mud.
can i stand erect, arms
outstretched, head touching sky, feet touching
this earth
where my dead have fallen, deep
like the roots of my toes under the loam, diving down
and curious whether life or death can be found in the dark
and wet, will i wilt with this rain
or reach for the sun that burns, as the heat
of lovers has burned, forcing scalded skin
to seek shade under the arms of those who have grown taller, than me
under green leaves thick with the diet of
this earth.
can i eat from the table set before me, can i drink
from the cup that floods with rain, as others have drunk
their pain, their tears pushed down the face of ashen sky
in remembrance of the dead, the dead of
this earth,
i call home.