EARTHBOUND (a poem)
Jan 2, 2021
Secrets and truth
bury them deep
beneath 80 layers
of lies.
Shovel by shovel
under 10 tons of granite,
dirt, and decaying
wet leaves.
They try to sneak through
but get tangled up
and what grows
is the truth
they call “we.”
A daffodil
a hyacinth
a bloom on an
orange trumpet vine.
No garden of flowers
can ever abolish
the stench
of the rotting
and dead.
