|
kernel |
|
in Illinois |
where flatness is pride |
we are taught |
not to envy creviceness |
extremes |
ravines and mountains |
canyons, cliffs |
they are arms legs and mouths— |
we are belly. |
limbs, lips move, do. |
bellies breathe |
birth |
bear weight. |
|
the solidness of our soil makes us stoic |
we say |
even as the wind whittles |
our faces into tree bark |
the envy is there |
with reason why we don’t mind the wrinkles |
the furrows for our corn— |
they secretly texture |
our hearts. |
and skyscraper fingers pushing through solidness |
soil |
reach for God. |
|
1997 |
s.spachman |
|