I don’t think you get

this thing called

soil.

 

It invades your pores,

your fingernails.

 

It creeps into your cracks and crevices.

 

It fills you up.

 

It feels like home

because it is.

 

Don’t let the religious fundamentalists

tell you any different.

 

Soil is where we grow and change and

die

and return

to dirt

or ash

or mulch

or mud

or gravel

or sand.

 

Soil is everywhere.

It’s even under the ocean.

 

So no matter

where you go

you are home.

 

You and I

are connected by

dirt.

 

Excuse me,

I mean soil.

 

Do you get it now?

This thing called

soil.

 

 

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