Dirt Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Dirt



Dirt

I was born, lived on, die on the dirt
I will soon, after death, turn to dirt
Stop it, don’t talk much against dirt
In fact earth, my mother, is the dirt.
Milk for food, ill and cure lie in dirt
The microbes teach blood to defend.

Sunday, May 31, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: earth
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