A love for this place
Got under my nails like the dark dirt
Poured over the thin stalk seedlings slowly growing.
Grow, I whispered, over the metallic sound of the humming road,
A love for this place, a deep affection, grew roots, whisp-like at first, then dark and deep as the water, wind and warmth came. The roots
Of course, the whole thing
took time. And other’s hands.
But there was this stubborn growing.
Love grew. From affection into form.
Into the presence of the living
Stubborn green and fruitful things.