Saturday, October 15, 2011

To dust you shall return.

When I was born, my mother says that I
came out in a sack of water, and that this
is why I have always loved the ocean.
When they bombed Hiroshima, all the
people turned to ash and blew away to
other lands.
When my grampa was eight he tried
to dig a hole to China, but only got halfway
before dinner.
We are all part of the earth, the sacred dirt-
that sticks under our fingernails and to
the knees of our blue jeans. When we die,
we come back as countries that have yet
to be discovered.