wind whipping white waves
against our shoreline
whittling away our lawn

i lay on the edge in the grass
arm around mother earth’s warm shore
i watch the ripples coming at me
ringing the realness
everything changes

as i breathe deeply the water-earth smell
i hug our mom’s soil-warmth
caressing my hands into her moist earthiness
i cup that wild-fragrant
perfume under my nostrils

on ash wednesday
as a child i had
a dusty thumb-made cross
traced on the middle of my forehead
“remember man
that thou art dust and unto
dust thou shall return”
and was frightened

today with years of wildness
secure in my bones
i breathe the lingering earthy fragrance
and think
“remember human that thou art humus
and unto humus you will return”
and I am comforted

                                                                            Dona Palmer May 4, 2022