In the Dirt
Among nature and it’s flora
laying in green moss on the floor.
Remember all the lore.
I at times, notice local fauna
seeing a mother and her fawn,
forgetting what page I was on.
Giant among birds, I think an ostrich,
burying its head, it doesn’t stretch.
Its dander and feathers make me wretch.
Soon I get bored and melancholy
the last animal to see is a collie
that’s when I hear my true call.
My hands want to participate
they crave the chance to take part.
I craft with clay my own art.
I’m a fan of pottery
dare I call myself a potter,
categorized as an otter.