The Forage MAG

January 12, 2010
By Buzz94 GOLD, Atascadero, California
Buzz94 GOLD, Atascadero, California
10 articles 0 photos 0 comments

we used to sit crosslegged in bliss
clad in overalls
foraging abundant wriggling tendrils
under cover of oak, we dig deep
earth squeezed between our pudgy toes
discovering the sought-after
held aloft by fingers caked in mud
until a sudden decade races by

today we dig deep for meaning
foraging for life
the monotonous minute hand speeds
hours to days, years to a lifetime
dreading until our internal clocks
suddenly tick the last tock.



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Judy said...
on Feb. 15 2010 at 5:25 pm
Heidi - Great poem. While reading it, I was mentally in your front yard with you and Lauren!


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