Saturday, May 22, 2010


Raw fingertips
I have been pulling weeds for hours
from the miniature dunes of this
lakeside volleyball court.

Sweat drips down the backs of my legs
and sand fills my eyes.
I can taste the earth
as wind blows dust from
the unwelcome and uprooted plants
into my mouth.

I do not think that pulling weeds
is a very important task.
And I am not sure if I
am even doing it right,
but I continue to plunge
my hands into the dirt.

Fingers searching
groping for a bit of flora
that I can,
rip out of the ground
and throw into the fire.