Fallow Fields
December’s new moon
dangles
over fallow fields
plowed, harrowed, forgotten
Creativity
rests
in loamy, dank beds
plowed, harrowed, forgotten
Impatient fingernails
scratch
at cold, dirty mounds
Quivering hands
exhume
soil-caked memories
Palmfuls of kernels
gleam with
audacious potential
Muddy hands
press seeds
back into bosom-earth
plowed, harrowed, fecund
A crescent moon
dangles
over beginnings
that used to be ends
CES 12/19/2025
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This stunning gem encapsulates my writing lately. It’s there. Waiting for its time. Let the winter embrace, doing the quiet underground work.
All is well
This is so visceral and moving: "Quivering hands
exhume
soil-caked memories"
Wow! Caitlin, how stunning!