on the earth
in the ravines
swinging across on green vines
sifting sand through daddy's hair
while he slept prone on the edge of dare.
We played and loved the earth
delighted in it
fell down on our faces to it
snuggledy-hugged it close.
Even during the winter when
cold white snow met our lips
we kissed the cold,
our tongue tasted it.
Like icy cones in summer it tasted good.
Ah the ravines! The ravines!
Swinging across, dropping into their oceans,
climbing their cliffs, scaling their sandy
sides all the way up to places where
breathing becomes rare.
We spread our arms out to all the
space there is and
shouted into its sound of silence.
-dale
