Life Growing

She loves the feel of soil,
its warm, musky scent
that mingles with the
smell of tobacco from
a cigarette careless tipped
from the corner of her lips.

Clay pots lined on a shelf
in front of a generations dust,
the damp granite walls and
windows, never cleaned,
they thrive and survive
as she settles them, letting
roots feel the moist earth
allowed to stretch at last.

You'll find her there -
nails engrained, stained
the butts of cigarettes
strewn across the floor,
as with careful meditation
she inhales the scent,
her pots of life straining
up toward the grainy light.

There she is, will always be
as winter light gives a halo
the smoky residue,
vapours from ghosts and
dust motes turn to stars
as even the sickliest of plants
will open up their hearts
her incense of faith
as she imbibes their joy.





Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 445 times
Written on 2008-09-07 at 10:44

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