Under the Earth

Who were you

to pass through this place,

naturally untroubled,

over the black earth

with it’s veil of sorrow?

Your footprints have left

their blazing scar

in the calloused skin.

And under that,

the bright heels of your soul

sink like arrows

that break open

the entombed past

buried so long,

with it’s coiling roots

and it’s ancient mines

of pity.

Under the earth

the mole twists free,

blind, pained,

armed with

the last remaining

claw of his fevers,

gropes at the crust,

traces your journey,

becomes your furtive shadow.

 

Copyright Ricky Barrow 2014

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