that school and church and home allow
he found the dirt his world was made of
dirt with stones and tree roots in it
dirt that supported grass and didn't
and found coarse men and women
scratching a living from that dirt
scratching their lives from dirt too
he found respect for those who did
thought they had stolen honesty
from folks his parents lived among
who seemed so casually sure of all they did
but grew embarrassed when he asked
found it funny that he tried to live
as did the dirt-scrabble that he'd found
but lived instead among distrusted
folks in dress shirts and polished shoes
folks who smelled like plants and vines
they'd never seen nor touched nor tasted
he wrote despite that of folks he'd found
whose stories he had listened to
and only wondered when too old
what stories the distrusted told
and whether they told them only to old stones
who could be trusted not to repeat
he listened and listened and even asked
but only met eyes that stared too far away
and a woman who tried to cast a spell
and cursed him when he didn't disappear
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