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Mud.
Oh! mud, warm funky slushy
friend, wet ebony squeezy of
mother earth.
My small green wellies stir
and whirl in dark spongy
puddles deep.
To bring you up and out, to
hug my knees, my arms.
My hands to knead and
squish between fingers
wide.
Mothers light scream with
eyes all wide, on once snowed
white kitchen tread.
I glide, feet track and trace a
glories zigzag scrawl,changing this
faceless space.
In steam hot water deep my friend
has to leave, to journey down,to join
our mother earth again.
Tomorrow I hope to feel Gods
gentle tears, as they run down
my face, as they splash to earth,
to make ebony puddles deep.
To slosh my feet, and stir my
friend mud, to hold, to squeeze,
make pies, and he will hug my
knees and arms, oh! mud.
My friend mud.
P.A. The Algarve Portugal. 2010.
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