my southern summer soul

every breath i take fills my lungs

with water

from the plants

the trees and the earth

if i could bottle the smell of hot

humid air

and take it everywhere

i would

the smell is sweet floral

and earthy moss

the sweat rolling

off my brow

before i even take two steps

out the door

a race to see how dirty

one can get

before bathing in the pond

just through the woods

or hosing off in the garden

this is home

 

the giant oaks that in my youth

heard the stories of my

loneliness

the forests filled with my secrets

my tears of sadness

my tears of joy

my make believe

barefoot running

only to fall silently

below another

giant quercus

silently sitting and listening

to the ants

with the beetles

the worms

the spiders

crawling across my bare legs

i am them

they are me

this is home

 

the sound of water

moving slow over rocks

rushing under a bridge

smell of fish and algae

color red like the earth

below the moss

stripping down to nothing

running and jumping

splashing and playing

one with the bass

mud under toes

that smell

musky river water

drying on my skin

our skin

barefoot comrades

the dry river water

mixed with the sweat

the mud

this is home

 

 

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