Guest Post: Poetry

From my dear fellow intern Lindsay:
http://thegrandfarmventure.wordpress.com/2013/10/11/more-poetry-yall/

The dusty red-clay soil
of Southern Georgia
has a way of sticking to you,
hanging on,
weighing you down
as if to persuade you
that this is where you belong.
It calls you back to itself here,
louder than I’ve felt before.
The soil embeds itself
in the soles of your feet,
the creases of your palms,
the bends of your elbows and knees
until you begin to believe
it is part of you.

But we are not so different,

humans and humus.

We have become arrogant
to believe we only live above it.
The soil here is persistent,
it won’t let you forget it, try as you might.
It wants to draw you back into itself,
it remembers what we don’t.
The soil in our chests
aches to meet the soil
of the land in which we live.

To be in constant contact is heaven:
fingers in the soil
can bring you back home.

–Lindsay