This is part of a series of poems, Incidental Poems, written on subjects requested by friends. This poem was requested by Craig Davis Pinson.
Photo by Sarah Talunay on Unsplash
Growth set itself forward in the aperture of spring born of the toiled fields sweat salted land between fingers submerged caught in the interstice of skin and nails
An odor of thyme amid the wind carried with it the temerity that parried against the flight of insects, as a transient respite from the essential labor of being.
Born nude of vagrant roots lifted to the sun by a travail of the hands abandoned to the horizon, to the melancholy of the sea