This was my best ‘dirt clod poem’ before I wrote ‘People Are Bodies of Water’

Falling Earth, Burning Stars

Why do we search

if we know what we will find?

Why walk in circles

on a crumbling stretch of land
trying to be happy but getting lost

in a mind filled equally

with the strong embrace of hope;

the fallen hat of guilt

Why bother arguing with ourselves

drumming to release the anger

or running with blood-red hands

when the way out is up?

I remembered

cold snow on my face and a

stomach like a churning

cauldron of dread

in the days before

and I returned

only to be reminded of how

imperfect and juvenile you could be

What if I had not gone at all?
Would my promise

have tied me in circles,

out of pity or duty?

But instead

this is what I saw:

Chunks of earth fell

into the river that day

they let go and allowed it to

carry them down

But I drove back under the

blue-black sky

of stars that

burn on even after they are extinguished

and then I knew

(March 21st, 2006)