Here is a love
or that nameless thing known as
between a girl and the ground
where she was made
the coordinates of that non-cartesian tuple
did not hold her long
her infant mind held no picture of the day
she was packed and stacked
alongside suitcases and siblings into the worn 9-seater
The ground, though, scattered with young oaks
was old and knew a precious thing
a thousand years later, or 36
she traversed a thousand miles, or 8,248
in answer to a call transmitted by the tide
and when she stepped through the gate
onto that old dirt
the ancestors of her living cells
passed down their histories
This hallowed dirt had known her
and saved her in the twilight days
when she needed saving
this ground now rich with tall oak trees
firewheels and solar panels
once held her soft baby body
so that she could uphold the air
and she, the baby, hi baby
rolled in the dirt turning it into a joy
Standing in this honoured earth
her pilgrim heart shook
for missing that dirt
and for gratitude
and when she left a second time, this time
in place of suitcases and siblings
she carried with her a knowing
that the ground had saved her
and would