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Remember the dirt.
by
George Wentz

 

The dry, baked smell of it
on a hot summer day.
The sweet, earthy smell of it
after the rain.

Bare knees covered with it
kneeling down to get close to it.
Finger tips painted black with it
from digging down into it.

Small hands with spoons,
and shovels, and tractors
mixing, and moving,
and smoothing it.

The front of tee shirts
and the backs of shorts
colored in dark blotches,
and shoes filled with it.

Remember the dirt.
Plant gardens in it,
touch it, smell it,
and be reborn in it.

--Submitted by George Wentz on 2011-05-17.
Post New Comment:
Cory Raymond:
I spent most of yesterday in the dirt and thoroughly enjoyed myself. This is a great poem!
Posted 05/17/2011 07:10 AM


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