Turn an earth clod/ Peel a shaley rock/ In fondness molest a curly
worm/ Whose familiar is everywhere  —Anne Spencer, “1975”

something of us
in fingers angling
for hum scented
soil everywhere
our fondness curls
to cleopatras who
hear moles kneel
bone & blood
thru sod & riverbed
to loam restored
each particle that
passes through
our aristotle
intestines turning
turf first from
ballast water
& root ball our
origins emptied
from ship to pack
more tobacco
oronoko pleasant
sweet & strong
we grunt thru
hard ground
taking all into
the extent of us
inching our way
to some noun
of our warm
home burrowing
in sentient clay
familiar songs
grass & clod
& shale castings
& playing such
supple parts
in far histories
& near climates
of dirt’s words
breath peeling
off to air all
poets returning
us to work this
familiar earth
that plights
& delights &
spells what
we are heads
& tails & so
sown freeing
us every now
& now &
now here