“Old As Dirt”

.
.
“When I am as old as the dirt
that frees me.”

Stumbling upon titles
to vehicles long gone
memories of youth
we seem to cling to, as mother earth
calls us back to her.

We walk through the quite green orchard
savor the fruit of the trees
though the sky seems so long
It’s the earth that cradles us.

In the beauty that survives,
in the beauty her children have not taken,
is a proud lady, true unconditional love
to another day of dress-up…

I understand now

……………………..when I hear her cry.

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Filed under Abe Rossi, Spiritual

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