Who I Am
As I ride on the back,
The green beast grumbles.
We’ve named it John and labeled it a deer
But neither fit as the tires roll along.
I wipe my face with my t-shirt:
Every inch of me is covered,
Covered in that which gives us life.
That which, in a way,
Gives everything life.
Bright green sprouts are born from it
My eyes scan the land I work.
Like opening a crayola box
A myriad of green fills my view
Violet wild flowers and grey-blue rivers are thrown in.
It’s as if I’ve been in a toaster,
My skin is browned and it’s radiating heat
As the sun beats down,
Bleaching strands of my dark hair.
My body is tired and worn
But I don’t want to go inside.
This is my land, this is my home.
This is my pride.
I’m a girl doing a man’s work
But I don’t mind.
Covered in soil,
I’ve never felt so alive.
I Couldn’t Help but Notice
I spot her sitting
There, her beneath the tree.
Her dark hair is salted with grey…but just a little.
Olive skin peppered with sun spots…but not too many.
A black skirt and white blouse
Cover her features and
Reveal her secret:
This is no ordinary day.
Only her brown eyes move
Darting, searching, waiting.
Is he coming?
Is he coming or will she be left,
Like every time before.
Maybe he’ll come.
Maybe this time they’ll fall in love.