Harvest
Brown soil is cool and moist in my hands,
Reminding me of who I am,
And of what came before me.
Planting, replenishing, giving back,
Restores me to myself.
This land belongs to everyone,
And no-one,
Though men plant flags to claim dominion.
There is time to green the land now,
To keep it free from blood,
To grow on it. To grow ourselves.
We can either be planters of new shoots,
Beneath a benevolent sun,
Or we can uproot it all,
Tear it asunder,
Yielding sparse, bitter and tainted harvest.
This land welcomes us,
Let us do the same for ourselves,
And posterity.
Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.
Thank you for clear, correct thoughts well put.
Another incredibly well written poem by Annette. It depicts the way life should be led in these trying times. We are just humans. Thank you my wonderful sister!