Hills and Fields

The Hills and Fields, the food they yield, the ills they heal, the stills reveal.

It’s possible we’re here just to tell,

or maybe uncover all we feel. Climbing and digging and using ourselves, as fodder for soil, that earthen smell.  Humans we are, that keeps us alive, tending to land with our mouths open wide. Claiming, recalling what’s inside, talking askance, just to abide, and fucking it up – one day at a time.